Home is Where the Heart is
by BlueDaylighter
Summary: Ophelia and Adeline both have no idea how they ended up on a grassy lawn, yet they both know something is out of order. Adeline, an... Elf? Ophelia, a human, but there is more then meets the eye. Ophelia holds a secret. Just when will she share it? She knows she will, just maybe not alive. Slow Legolas/OC and Boromir/OC. My first fan-fic. Please give it a try? TENTHWALKER. Complete
1. Prologue - Adeline

Prologue – Adeline

I hear the alarm clock sound and my hand creeps out of my bed, trying to hit the _snooze_button.

"Where is it…?" I mutter in my sleep. "Please, just turn off, I'm having a good dream here."

Maybe that was a lie, but anything to convince Mother Nature or any other ancient deity that I should get more sleep.

_You're late for archery, Adeline,_A tiny voice whispers to me.

"Not… yet…" I mutter back, trying to enter sleep again, burrowing my head into my soft pillow.

_It's 6:00 AM, Adeline,_The nagging voice coaxes me.

"Twenty more minutes… Wait, _what_?!" I scream. Sure enough, the first thing I see is a taunting digital clock reading _6:07._"I've gotta go, I've gotta go."

I did _not_want to be late for the archery competition. I slip on skinny jeans, brushing my waist long, caramel hair and cleaning my teeth. Jeez, this is hard. I pick up my sheath and bow racing down the stairs.

"What time is it?" I ask myself quietly. The stupid clock says it is 6:20 and I've got to sprint all the way there!

_How is that fair?_ I silently wonder if Ophelia is going to be there. Ophelia is my best friend, but her strength is kendo and is brilliantly intelligent. She got to skip a grade and in one year younger than me, seventeen.

Chances are, Ophelia was awake by 4:30 AM and is jogging her effin' 5 k run. I grab a piece of whole wheat toast, strawberry jam, and race out the back door. You see, I live in the middle of nowhere. In the woods, where I do my own hunting. Trees smell fresh as I rush past them, my waist long hair getting in the way of my view. This causes me to evidently trip over a tree root.

"Ack-k-k…" I curse. Three seconds until my butt gets bruised. Two… on –

"Whoa!" I feel a hand jerk me upwards. "Adeline, what's up?"

Ophelia. "The sky," I snap, and try to run again.

"Wait, Ada! Addie!" Ophelia calls to me. "You leaving me in the dust?"

I roll my eyes, knowing she could easily beat me in a sprinting race. Soon enough, Ophelia's there. "Finishedkendo?"

Ophelia smiles. "Yup, I won. Again. I think it's time they made me supreme master of kendo. Or at least call me sensei."

"Ego, much?" I question her.

"Oh no, never!" Nodding, staying sarcastic. "Hey, you running to that archery competition?"

"No, I'm just deciding to run and frolic in a pink, frilly dress, carrying roses – of _course_I'm going there!" I say.

"Calm down, Ada, Addie, whatever," Ophelia tries to comfort me. "Oh, lookie here! You've got… five minutes!"

My eyes widen as I truly leave Ophelia in the dirt.

"Addie!" Ophelia screams. "I was jo–_king_! Come back! You've still got twenty minutes!"

"No can do, Lia! Wait… _twenty minutes_?" I narrow my eyes dangerously.

Ophelia rubs her neck, looking sheepish. "Umm, I got you hear faster?"

I am nodding. "Well, yeah - no! No! Don't do that, Lia!"

"Sorry, Ada," Ophelia sounds sincere. "But look! It's over there! With fifteen minutes to spare."

"I'll thank you this time, Lia," I glare at her. "But never again. Never."

"Clear as crystal, Ada," Ophelia nods.

I take a deep breath, smelling hay, grass, targets and… manure? Eew. Ophelia looks like she can smell it too.

"What the frex is that smell?"

Frex…? I voice my question.

"Oh, sorry, Addie," Ophelia apologizes. "It's a book trilogy I'm reading, called _Across the Universe_, and it has its own swear words! And, well, I kind of caught up on that."

"I thought you were reading _Lord of the Rings_?" I ask her.

"Done and done and done," Ophelia lazes. "The books are good, but the movies are kind of… really long."

"I liked the first movie."

"It was decent," Ophelia agrees. "Much better than some other movies we've seen, though."

"How's school?" I ask her, changing the question. "I mean, isn't it hard?"

"No, the only thing I'm slaving over is at the guitar," Ophelia remarks. "Can't get the stupid F major. Can change the chords pretty fast, though. Violin, flute?"

I groan. Flute is my band instrument and I might've… broken it over the weekend. "Err, violin's going good."

"You're avoiding flute," Ophelia notices. "Did you break it?"

Spot on. I have no idea how she does this, but my silence answers her question.

"You _did_?" Ophelia looks shocked. She knows I treat everything with the up-most respect. That's why I apologize to furniture. "How did _that_happen?"

My eyes mist over. I remember trying to reach for my father's old box of love letters to my mother. I did not notice my flute trapped under all the carnage, while I was standing on my tip-toes.

"I, uh, it got stuck," I say with a note of finality and Ophelia drops it. Well, that's what I thought.

"Is this about your parents?" Ophelia softly whispers.

I clutch my bow tighter, seeming if I squeeze it any harder, it will shatter into a million pieces. "What makes you think that, Lia?" I say in a steely voice.

"I'm sorry," Ophelia drops her gaze to her feet, looking almost ashamed. Almost. "But, I think… please tell me about it. I could help, Ada. Addie, I could."

Her voice sounds so convincing I am about to list every one of my problems right out to her, but I bite my tongue in effort to stop that. "Come, Lia. The competition is starting."

The competition was indeed starting, including about twenty competitors. Oh, joy. This will take all day. Ophelia whispers, "_Bonne chance, Ada_."

I smile, French has always been a way to escape the crowd. We both excelled in learning languages, me learning Spanish and Portuguese and Ophelia knowing Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, German and Mandarin.

Ophelia also knows simple phrases in other languages I would prefer I didn't list.

"Adeline Bronson!" A voice yells.

"Here!" I chirp in response.

A man looks in my direction, giving me the tiniest of nods. The list of names go on, two of the archers not showing up.

"Alright, we're beginning!" The man shouts into his megaphone. "First match up, Adeline Bronson against Jessica Herold!"

Me, first? Shoot. I wasn't expecting that. When I line up with Jessica, I see she is a short girl with stubby red hair. "Good luck."

She smiles at me, her red hair frizzing. "You, too."

I stand in front of my target, about twenty metres away, and the wind is blowing about 1mph in the direction of the right. This should be fairly easy. When I scan the stands I do not see Ophelia. Where did she go? No, matter, I will find her later. I tilt my head so I can see who goes first. Me.

Jessica smiles, and I feel extremely grateful. I take a deep breath, notching an arrow. Three… two… one… _shoot_.

The arrow flies, landing near the middle of nine. I sigh in relief. That ought to be good. I have four arrows left to shoot. Jessica claps for me.

"_Bonne chance, Jessica_," I say. She looks at me, confused, but she realizes it means something good.

"_Merci_," She replies. Her arrow is notched. The wind is not blowing and the air is hot. This is perfect. I see her formation and the way she is shooting is off. I desperately want to tell her, but I don't. I'm not allowed to.

Jessica shoots, it going behind her, about three meters to the right from me and five meters in front of me.

Suddenly, a gust of wind appears, pushing the arrow closer and closer to me.

_It will not hit you,_I stand there like an idiot. _Don't hit me… don't hit me…_

The arrow is closer, now. Much, much closer.

Too late my mind realizes it _will_hit me. _I'm too young to die!_

I open my eyes, focusing on the arrow.

_Dodge it, Ada. You can do it_, I encourage myself. No, I cannot.

A scream tears my lips when the arrow punctures my heart, knowing I surely _have_to die.

Disclaimer 

I do not own anything you recognize


	2. Chapter 1 - Adeline

Chapter 1 - Adeline

I hear odd voices around me. Screaming. Ouch. I also hear things like, _Is she dead? _or _Is she okay? _or even, _She's injured! _

_You don't say! _I want to scream back. All I feel is pain and all I see is blackness. What had happened?

"Oh my god, Adeline," I hear a familiar voice next to me. It is not Ophelia. Is it…? "Please don't die. It was a mistake, I swear. No, no, no… I'm _sorry_. Please wake up."

I feel sticky. It is not slick like sweat, but thick. It is not colourless like sweat, but it is red. Red… What is red? Blood, blood is red. Of course. I have been shot. By… Jessica!

_Where is Ophelia? _My mind asks me. _Where is she? _

I feel sudden resentfulness. Does she not care I am about to die?

_No, _my logical part of my mind. _She's probably in the forest, practicing kendo. She has no idea this happened. _

I try to agree with this part of my mind. And eventually I do. I wonder how long it will be till I die. There is no hospital, not for about one hundred kilometers. They don't have many ambulances there either.

"Please be okay," I hear Jessica mutter to me again. No, I won't. I can feel my own effin' life force draining away from me.

I grip my bow tightly, which is still in my hands. My sheath is in the other. I assume they don't want to pain me more by removing them.

"Hey, kid," The man who held the archery competition? "You'll be fine."

No, I won't.

"You'll be fine," Jessica.

No, I won't

"You'll be fine."

No I won't. I won't because… there is nothing left of me. There is no more to live for. It is too painful. It is _excruciatingly _painful. I just want to die. I also want to know who made up to stupid legends of dying. Then I want to sue him. Or her.

I mutter something like, "Ar-gk-dgf-f-gk."

Laugh now, but I swear, if you knew how I felt, you would be saying much worse things. As I was saying…

To clear up myths when you die. They say everything goes slow-mo. and your senses get super hyped up.

It was slow. My senses were normal. Actually, I heard an annoying buzz in my ears.

Also, they say when you die you'll see your whole life flashing in front of you. I do not need that. I'm good. That never happened so… that's a relief.

I really feel like screaming now. _When am I going to die?!_

_Right now, _A voice chirps. What…?

_Hmm… wanna die, huh, kid? _Who is this moron in my head? And…

_I'm Death! _The voice says eagerly.

_Thanatos…? Hades? Apophis? Umm… I don't know any more? _I question the cheery voice.

_Do I sound masculine to you? _The voice says, obviously affronted. _Call me Chances. _

_Chances…? _What kind of name is that?

_Yes, now, let's go to my house! You're dead once you reach there! _

No, I didn't want to die literally! I try to voice this but the voice is already pulling me. Next thing I see is black.

Freaking _again. _

All I remember is that I want my life back.

* * *

"We're here!" The stupid voice. "Wake up!"

"I'm dead," I dead-pan.

"You spoke." Oh, yeah…

I force my eyes open, feeling like they are sewn shut. Immediately, brightness fills my vision.

"Ow, ow, ow, who turned on the sun?" I complain, irritably. I rise into a sitting position, discovering I feel no more pain.

"How…?" I am speechless.

"You're dead, remember?" I turn to the voice. It's a very young girl (well, that's what she looks like) with silvery hair and obsidian black eyes. That's just plain creepy.

"How old are you?" This is the first thing I say. Oh, joy.

"I'm five!" The cheery… thing? Okay, I'll call her a fairy. She looks like one. Let me rephrase.

_"I'm five!" The cheery fairy says. _

Better?

"What!" I yelp. I cannot believe this thin – _fairy _– is _five_. This is who was sent for me? I feel so special.

"Yup, and," The fairy adds. "You can call me Peony."

"Uh-h-h, Adeline. Yeah, Adeline," I stammer. "I'm eighteen."

"Adeline?" Peony cocks her head. "Do you know a girl named 'Elia?"

I get confused. Excited. Worried. "Ophelia?" I squeak.

"Yeah!" Peony nods, enthusiastically. "I brought her here a few hours ago. She said she knew you!"

Oh… frex. Frex, now I'm starting to sound like Lia.

"Take me to her, please?" I ask Peony.

She giggles and offers her chubby hand. "Sure, Addie."

* * *

When I walk around, I see everything is ultra-safe. I am not exaggerating. Everything was made out of pink or baby blue fluff. Which I later discover as…

"Want some?" Peony says, ripping off a bit of fluff.

I give her a, _Have you been doing drugs? _look.

"It's yummy," She defends herself. "I think you mortals call it candy floss."

"Umm?"

"Where do you live?" Peony asks me patiently, stuffing her face with the fluff.

"Canada. British Columbia. Near the Rockies," I answer her, eyeing the fluff.

"Oh, then, I think… fluffy candy?" Peony tries. "No! Cotton candy!"

Oh, in that case… I stuff my hands full of the deliciousness. Then I eat it.

"Greedy, aren't we?" Peony says, batting her eyelashes. "'Elia was the same. She was muttering something like, 'Oh my goodness, how come I hadn't eaten this before?'"

I grin. I had this once before, when I was a small girl… when my parents were alive. I was going to go to town and buy some for Ophelia but we never got the chance.

My grin drops. We never had a chance. We never _got _a chance. "How did Ophelia die?"

Peony frowns. "I can't tell you. Even if she is your friend, it's her job to tell you, not mine."

"How old are you _really_?" I joke. She sounds like the old dude from Parry Hotter, now.

"My _real _age?" Peony knits her eyebrows. "Five hundred."

I chock on my cotton candy. "Ex-cu-use, m-e?"

"Five, zero, zero," Peony says slowly. "Five-hun-dred."

My mind whirs as I try to process this information.

"Ah," Peony exclaims. "Here is 'Elia's room."

I nod mutely.

"Well, we're going to meet Minnie in an hour, to decide where your reincarnation is going to develop," Peony says. "Have fun, oh, and get dressed!"

I knock on Ophelia's door.

* * *

The first thing I see is Ophelia stuffing her mouth full of cotton candy. Oh no, sugar rush.

"Addie!" Lia squeals. "Have you had the cotton candy? It's great. Wow, this place is amazing. Can we go home? How did you die?"

"Your bluntness will never cease to amaze me, Lia," I say dryly.

"Love ya too!" Ophelia says happily. "Anyways, we have to get dressed! Here! I picked these out for you!"

I look at the clothes in her hand. They are jeans and a black shirt, a soft, wool vest on top.

"Thanks, err, Ophelia," I try to thank her. "Shower and meet me outside your room in forty five minutes, got it?"

"Alright, Addie," Ophelia giggles.

I roll my eyes.

Sugar plus Ophelia equals a big no-no.

* * *

We are ready in fifty minutes and Ophelia's sugar rush is gone.

"Oh, hey, guys," Peony greets us. "Come on, let's meet Minnie."

We walk through big, fluffy halls, and enter a grand room, and there is a tall women (I think) with stringy, light brown hair. As far as I can see, at least.

"Peony?" Whoa. Her voice is… way younger than I expected.

"Yes, Minnie?" Peony says innocently. "I have 'Elia and Addie."

"Already on nickname bases, Peony?" The women asks her, amused. "My, my, many friends, indeed."

"I'm still young," Peony defends. "And cute. That's what wins them over."

No, it's the cotton candy.

The women turns around and… behold! She's… ageless. I'm sorry, that's the best way I can describe her.

She has flawless, ivory skin and cocoa, brown eyes. What irks me is that her eyes look like they have seen everything. Everyone. Everywhere.

Ophelia tenses beside me. "That's not normal." She hisses. No, shoot, Sherlock.

Her face is that of a young women, but her eyes tell the true story. They are still lively and dancing, yet they hold this old, grandmotherly… thing, to them.

I'm using _thing _quite a lot, aren't I?

"Bring them here, Peony," Minnie orders. "And, by the way, my name is Minerva."

"No, it isn't," Peony giggles as she leads us to Minerva. "It's Minnie."

Minerva chooses to ignore us. "You… have much to do, Adeline and Ophelia."

"I've got to finish my archery competition?" I asked, having no clue what she meant. Ophelia elbows me in the ribs. Ouch.

"No!" Ophelia hisses. "Just – just, listen, alright?"

I nod.

"Alright," Minerva clears her throat. "Do you know the Lord of the Rings?"

"Who doesn't?" I ask. "They're, like, the most popular over-fifty-years-ago-written book series."

Ophelia steps on my foot. Ow-w-w-w. "Yes, ma'am."

"Do you know the contents?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, dear," Minerva says. "I think I'll have to wipe your minds."

_What_?!

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Ophelia sounds horrified. "You're going to, let me rephrase that, _wipe our minds_?"

"Oh my, only of the contents of those books, dear," Minerva comforts us. "You see…"

"I'll explain that, Minnie," Peony intervenes. "You see, Addie and 'Elia, we select some very special people, after they die."

"That's it? Ouch!"

"You see, J.K Rowling, J.R.R Tolkien, Rick Riordan, Beth Revis…" Peony trails off. "When these people were young, we sent them on their adventures."

"You mean…?" Ophelia drops her question.

"Yes, Peony confirms. "What they have written, they have experienced. They were told by someone like Minnie to keep their adventures secret, but write them down, them being a totally different character, like Rick Riordan was Conner Stoll in Percy Jackson and the Olympians."

"Travis never had a brother, then," I conclude.

"J.K Rowling was Luna Lovegood in Harry Potter, and so on," Peony gave us an example. "But when we don't like the story enough, we send in different people to these alternate dimensions."

"So," Minerva cuts in. "These select people change the future, the outcome. We are confident these people will make the story more interesting, they might possible die, but the story will end in a stronger ending."

"You're sick!" I exclaim. "I mean, _what_, this – this isn't _natural_!"

"Not much is natural," Minerva states. She looks over at Ophelia. "Or fair. The world wouldn't spin round if everything was fair."

"Fine," Ophelia says, obviously mad. "What if we survive and _do _make a better ending? Are we going to stay there forever? Will we return home? Will we get back our memories?"

Minerva smiles dryly. "A, no. You'll get a choice to stay there or not. B, at the end of the stories, you will remember _everything_."

"Your whole being here will be whipped as well," Peony adds. Ophelia glares at her and she shrinks back. I almost pity her. _Almost_.

"You'll stand a pretty good chance!" Peony protests. "We'll give you handicaps, weapons and a bit of food and drink!"

"Pretty good?" My nostrils flare. "_Pretty good_? Where will we be dropped off, the wilderness?"

"No, in front of the Shire!" Peony tries to calm me down. "Frodo will discover you, when he's heading to find Gandalf!"

Ophelia calms down a bit and so do I. "Right, then, when do we leave?"

"Now," Minerva says. "Here are your weapons."

Peony hands me a very expensive looking bow and sheath, detailed with a gold lining. She hands Ophelia a shiny, silver sword. "You're good at languages, no?"

"Yes, and we'll try to learn Sindarin and Khuzdûl," Opehlia answers her unanswered question.

"As much as we can," I add helpfully.

"I'm sorry," Peony whispers to us, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Hey, it's fine, we were just mad, right Lia?" I try to soothe Peony.

"Yup, totally _just _mad," Ophelia says, unconvincingly, eyeing her sword.

"Also, I shouldn't tell you this but…" Peony looks unsure. "Addie, you'll be an elf. Ophelia, you'll still be a human, but have more better reflexes then her, meaning –"

"Running, endurance and all that stuff," Ophelia said. "I know. Can we go now?"

"Impatient, are we?" Minerva looks amused. "Backpacks, containing food and… maybe I'll give you your iPods…"

Ophelia and I grin at each other. "Please, ma'am."

"They'll last for a week, screen on," Minerva tells us. Peony hands us backpacks.

"Earphones, in there," She assures us.

"Now…" Minerva begins. "Close your eyes…"

_Close your eyes… close your eyes… close your eyes… _

My mind went blank.

Disclaimer

I do not own LOTR, J.R.R Tolkien does. Also, I would be a lot older and a boy.

I also do not own anything you recognize.

I _also _do not own the LOTR movies, that belongs to Peter Jackson. Lucky him.

All rights reserved to them.

I only own my plot and my characters

**Author's Note:**

I am just starting to read the Lord of the Rings. I loved it so much, I started to read the Lord of the Rings, _before _I finished, or even got half-way, through the book. So, please excuse any references I have gotten wrong. I am also going to mix up the book and the movie, I'm going to see them as soon as I can. I accept positive criticism, actually, thanks for that. (No sarcasm). That helps me become a better author. Reviews are loved, and the next chapter is actually going to be in Middle Earth.

Thank you so much,

_BlueDaylighter _


	3. Chapter 2 - Ophelia

Chapter 2 – Ophelia

When I awoke, something was digging into my back. "Urgh-h, did a spring come loose?"

I feel something stringy underneath me. "What is this…?"

It's grass. Did I fall asleep? On the ground? _Outside_? I feel my hand brush against something. "Adeline?"

"Go away, mommy," She mutters, sleepily. I almost laugh. I don't, because I know we are in deep shi -… trouble. That's the word.

"Please, Ada, wake up," I beg. "I have no idea in _world _where we are and… and _please _help me!"

"Mommy?" Adeline tried again. "Alright, _fine_, mommy, but I want cookies."

"I'll give you a ton of cookies if you know where we are!" I try anything.

"I'm up!" Adeline says immediately. Jesus, cookies and that woman. "Where are the cookies?"

"Ada," I try to break this to her gently. "We're lost." I suck at breaking things gently.

"What do you mean?" Adeline is thoroughly confused. "Did I go to the hospital?"

"What do _you_ mean?" I am confused now.

"I got shot by an arrow," Adeline says bluntly. "Am I in delirium or something?"

"No, Ada," I explain patiently. "This. Is. In. Real. Life. And you _what_?"

"Nothing, Lia," Adeline says smoothly. "So, where are we?"

"That's the problem, I don't know," I try to remember every place I have been. "I've never seen such healthy grass or unpolluted skies before."

Adeline pushes her hair behind her ear and I give a tiny shriek before I bite my lip. "Addie…"

"What? What is it?" Adeline looks around panicked. "Where is it? Is it a bug? Is there a monster?"

"No…" I hyperventilate. "No! Ada, look at your freakin' _ears_."

"I can't!" Adeline wails. "Do I have a something? Did my ears stretch?"

"Feel – freakin' – them," I try to say as calmly as possible.

Adeline pulls up her hand and traces the outline of her ears.

"Spill, Addie," I order her. "Did you go through massive plastic surgery or what?"

"I – I don't know!" Adeline stammers. "All I know is that I smell cotton candy and _poof _I wake up here, being promised cookies!"

"I'm sorry, Ada, but," I say, defensively. "You wouldn't have woken up."

"Whatever," She grumbles and she stands up, her attire being jeans, black shirt and a wool vest. I look down at mine and they are relatively the same, except I had a blue shirt and a sweater.

"What do these have inside them?" I question, looking over at the backpack.

Adeline is about to open them when a small voice interrupts us. "Gandalf! Look! Is that an elf? And a human girl?"

Humph. Human _girl_? Granted, I was younger than Adeline but I was about the same height as her.

Adeline looks over to the voice. They are in a freakin' carriage. Those went out of date, like, 200 years ago.

"Yes, tis an elf and a human _women_, Frodo," Thank you Dumbledore!

I turn walk to them. Maybe since this dude looked like Dumbledore, he would think like Dumbledore?

"Hello," I introduce myself. I am not sure I want to give my real name so I give them my nickname. "My name is Lia."

Adeline has confusion written in her eyes, but they quickly transform into understanding. "Ada."

Dumbledore looks highly amused by this and his mouth twitches up. "Well, Ada is a name I have heard of. Lia… not so much. Maybe it is a name of the race of Men?"

"Yes, quite frankly, it is," I try to restrain myself from snapping. "We're… lost, sir."

"Lost?" Dumbledore's eyebrows raise. "And how did you get _lost_?"

"We woke up here, sir," Being polite has never been so hard. "We have no idea how we got here, sir, but please help us."

"Perhaps Frodo's uncle here can lend you a map to get back home?" Dumbledore suggests.

Adeline looks over at Frodo, his eyes still glued to her ears. "May we?"

"Of-f course!" Frodo stammers. "Bilbo wouldn't mind! And maybe seeing an elf will quench his thirst of adventure…"

_Bilbo? _I thought. I recognized that name. The Hobbit*! "Bilbo… Baggins?" I say uncertainly.

Frodo has shock written on his face. "The Hobbits around here know about Bilbo, but has his name spread through the race of Men?"

"Err, yeah, sure," Adeline says unhelpfully. "Why not?"

I make direct contact with Dumbledore. This _had _to be a joke! I would not believe it. Not until I saw evidence. Maybe this 'Frodo' had gotten plastic surgery for his feet, but I put on a tight smile and said, "Thank you, Frodo. May we join you on the wagon?"

* * *

During the ride, Frodo and Dumbledore were talking about Bilbo, how odd he was lately and how he had been pouring over maps and old books.

"Before you came along, we Bagginses were very well thought of," Frodo stated.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, a cloud of smoke resting near his head.

"Never had any adventures or did anything unexpected," Frodo claimed. I stopped listening after that.

After a few more horse trots, I heard a series of "_Gandalf!_" Oh yippee. Children.

"Fireworks, Gandalf," They pleaded. Oh, gosh, how does he resist those faces?

He doesn't. He makes small _whizzpoppers _and who knows what else appear and the children smile and laugh. Frodo, Dumbledore, Adeline and I do too.

"Are all Hobbits that cute?" Adeline asks. Frodo looks offended to a certain degree. "Children, Frodo. Children."

"I think, yes," I answer her.

"Gandalf, I'm so glad you're back," Frodo says brightly and jumps from the carriage.

"So am I, dear boy, so am I…" Dumbledore merrily agrees. He turns to face us. "Well, Bag End is not far from here, now."

* * *

When we reached 'Bag End' I gapped. Please let this be freakin' fake. Maybe we're in New Zealand? Where they shot The Hobbit?

"Are we in New Zealand?" Ada voices my question.

"Where, my dear?" Dumbledore asked me. "Where is _New Zealand_?"

"It's 1500 kilometers east from Australia," I supply. Surely this imposer must know where we are?

"Australia?" Dumbledore tests the word on his tongue. "Where…?"

"It's an island and continent, sir, or, you could say, a country or kingdom. A _very _big kingdom," I try to answer him in the simplest way possible.

"Ah," Dumbledore says and Adeline scowls. I snicker. That was her line.

"How much longer?" Adeline asks. "This carriage, wagon thing is bumpy. I don't like it."

Dumbledore chuckles. "I thought elves were supposed to like the outdoors?"

"We like _riding _on horses," Adeline reproaches. How did she come up with that one?

"There is Bag End," Dumbledore points to the biggest house in the ground. Whoops. I thought another house of Bag End. My mistake.

"That's Bag End?" Adeline's eyes bug out. "It's beautiful."

I had to agree. Fresh grass was strewn on the top of the house, the green door was lush and looked top quality. The glass shimmered in and out, causing a blinding look.

Adeline and I hopped out of the carriage, me more graceful then she.

A 'NO ADMIDANCE' and in smaller print, 'EXCEPT ON PARTY BUISNESS' sign was strung on the fence gate.

"That's welcoming," Adeline snorts. I nod.

Dumbledore climbs off the carriage (How does he do that at such an old age?) and motions us to follow him into the front porch.

"Come on, now," Dumbledore urges us. "Don't be shy."

As if. Dumbledore's gray robes swish back and forth, as we enter. Adeline and I share a worried look but we step forward.

"Wow," I murmur. "If Bilbo has a nephew, he must have aged a bit."

Dumbledore raps his staff against the lovely green door. Shame.

A muffled voice cried out, "No, THANK YOU! We don't want any more visitors, well wizards or distant relations!"

"And what about very old friends?" Dumbledore asks.

The door creaks open and an old Hobbit steps out. "Holy mother of cows. Is that _Bilbo_?" I mutter.

'Bilbo' ignores me and whispers, "Gandalf?"

"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf says, looking all-the-sudden cheery.

"My dear Gandalf," Bilbo cries and the two embrace, but totally in a cool _we're both old so our dignity stays no matter what _way.

"111 years old," Gandalf whispers, reminiscing. "You haven't aged a _day_."

"Excuse me?" Adeline coughs.

Bilbo turns to us. "Who are these girls, Gandalf? More travellers to get rid of a dragon?"

"No," Dumbledore looks at us. "Meet Lia, from the race of Man and Ada, from the race of Elves."

"Ada?" Bilbo repeats, a grin clearly visible**. "I haven't seen an elf in sixty years."

"What is with the smiling at my name?" Adeline says clearly unhappy. Ignoring his last sentence.

"Nothing my dear, nothing," Bilbo smiles at us. "Come on, come in!"

Dumbledore chuckles and we just stand outside.

"You, too," Bilbo encourages us. "Any friend of Gandalf is a friend of mine."

"Thank you very much, Master Baggins," I say politely. "Umm, Dumbl – Gandalf, yes, Gandalf here suggested we could use a few maps…? We're quite lost you see."

"Lost?" Bilbo looks puzzled. "But we're in the Shire! Nobody gets _lost_."

"Nobody goes fighting a dragon," Adeline points out. Bilbo looks flabbergasted in us knowing but Adeline just shrugged and looked pointedly at Gandalf. "He hinted at it."

"Of course my dears," Bilbo says and we slouch to come in.

"You have a lovely home, Master Baggins," Adeline says.

"Thank you, thank you," Bilbo says leading us to somewhere. "Now where did I put those maps…?"

After about twenty minutes, Bilbo insists he might've misplaced them and offered us biscuits and chamomile tea.

"Thank you, Master Baggins," I say, truly thankful for this kindness, even if this might be all a prank.

Gandalf walks around and then he says, "Ah, here it is! A map of the Desolation of Smaug. Should this suffice?"

"Yes… thank you," I honestly don't know how to reply to this. I look at the map, still not thoroughly convinced. "Thank you, Gandalf."

"Lia?" Adeline questions me. "Where are we going to stay?"

I frown. I hadn't thought of that. "I'm not sure, Ada."

Bilbo conveniently pops us. "You may stay here, my girls. I have never housed a man or elf, once I do, I have housed every race!"

"Thank you for your generosity, Master Baggins… but we couldn't," I find myself saying.

"Oh, yes you will," Bilbo says, pushing us to the door. "Come in here, these are your rooms. Why don't you get cleaned up?"

"That would be marvellous, Master Baggins," Adeline cuts in before I say something. "Where is the restroom?"

"Two rooms to the right, dear and another," He looks at me. "Five rooms to the left. You may stay in any room you desire, dears."

"But –"

"No, buts," Bilbo says hastily. "Now, Gandalf and I have much to discuss. You may come to my birthday party, if you wish."

"Thank you, Master Baggins," Adeline thanks him once again. "We will see you at your party."

Bilbo hurried off.

* * *

The bath was just what I needed. I felt refreshed and I put on my old clothes again, feeling happier.

"Someone's happy," Adeline noticed. "Bath?"

"Baths are awesome," I defend myself. "C'mon, let's go see what's in those backpacks."

We choose rooms side by side to each other, my room having a soft lilac colour to it and an old mahogany bed. We walk into my room.

"What do you think is in here?" Adeline wonders. "I mean, it's got to be something light, right?"

"Maybe," I _hmm_. "Do you believe all this Hobbit and Wizard trash?"

"I think I do," Adeline says slowly. "I don't think so many people would go through plastic surgery to fool us."

I find nothing to say. I open the zippers on my backpack and I see a hilt coming out from it.

"What is this?" I wonder to myself and Adeline looks close to it.

"A dagger?" She suggests.

I shake my head. "No, the hilt's too big."

"Pull it out," Adeline orders me.

I yank the hilt and out comes a 3-foot sword.

That's it. I'm convinced we are in Middle Earth.

*Remember, they only forgot LOTR. Or, at least, only Ophelia did. They (Ophelia) still remembers The Hobbit.

**I'm not sure if Bilbo knows Sindarin, but in here let's just say he knows simple phrases.

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize

**Author's Note**

How was it? I hope it was good. I know there isn't much action _now_, but maybe I'll fast forward through the events.


	4. Chapter 3 - Adeline

Chapter 3 – Adeline

I don't know what to do. Scream, run, hide or scream. I just stare at the freakin' sword. "Where…?"

"Adeline?" Ophelia says softly. "I believe we are in Middle Earth."

"No, shoot, Sherlock," I scramble up. "Why, why, why?"

"Ada," Ophelia says in a commanding tone. "Look in your backpack."

I'm scared. "What? What if there's some freaky _thing _in there?"

"Just do it," Ophelia says wearily. "Or I will."

My hands tremble as I peer into the backpack and I see a real _bow_ and _sheath_. "Oh, heck, no."

I pull them out, just like Ophelia did. A beautiful bow comes out. A sheath of sixteen arrows does as well.

"This is… priceless," I find myself saying. "How… I can't use this!"

"You'll probably have too, Ada," Ophelia says grimly. "We're in Middle Earth."

* * *

Gandalf's fireworks _rock_. They burst in colours of green and blue and red, showering the dancing people below, and a huge sign saying 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BILBO BAGGINS'.

"So many people," I hear Ophelia say, shaking her head, "For someone _so _old."

Truthfully, I agree with her but I grin to myself as so many Hobbits are dancing, like you would do in the part of '_Swing your partner 'round and 'round_' in Timber by Pitbull. As we enter the party, many Hobbits stare at us.

"Old friends of Gandalf," Ophelia coughs out. The Hobbits nod to each other, a message probably going through like, _Oddities, that wizard_.

Music is playing and Frodo is imitating some sort of chicken?

"Hey, Frodo!" I say, cheerfully. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you," Frodo smiles at us. "I heard from Bilbo, you'll be staying with us."

"We are, if you don't mind, Frodo," Ophelia says. "I hope you don't."

"Mind? Mind, me!" Frodo exclaims. "Never, I would be delighted to have you as company, as Bilbo plans to go somewhere…"

"Can you introduce us to some of your friends, Frodo?" I ask him.

"Why, of course!" Frodo beams. "Come on, then. There's Sam. Oi! He's been _dying _to dance with Rosie Cotton. Let's give him a shove, shall we?"

Ophelia and I grin. We walk towards Sam.

"Hello, Sam," Ophelia greets herself. "I'm Ophelia, a friend of Frodo's."

"I'm Ada," I smile warmly at him. I lower my voice. "You want to dance with a certain girl, eh?"

Sam blushes bright red. "I think I'll get another ale. She'll never want to dance with _me_."

"Oh, no you don't!" Frodo exclaims. Ophelia grabs him and Frodo shoves him just in time to catch Rosie.

"Aww," I say. "That is _so _sweet."

"Have any girl on _your _mind, Frodo?" Ophelia grins at him.

"No, I don't Miss Ophelia," Frodo says shortly.

"Really?"

"Yes, have you seen Bilbo?" Frodo asks us.

"No, we hav –"

_BOOM! _

A big, pearly-white, firework explodes and domes around us, and spreads out, sending many cheers.

"Beautiful," I say, awed. "Frodo, you are _so _lucky."

"For what? Oh, no!"

"Wait, what?" I ask confused.

"Sackville-Bagginses!" Frodo hisses. "They've wanted Bag End _forever_ but I will inherit it after Bilbo… perishes. They've hated us since. I've got to hide him!"

"Go," Ophelia encourages him. "We'll wait for you here."

We watch Frodo scurry to Bilbo, helping him appear casual then Bilbo is going through a… lecture?

"What do you think Frodo is thinking?" Ophelia giggles. His face is first offended, worried, disturbed then confused.

"Good, god," I mutter. "Someone help him."

Suddenly, a tent rips from the ground sending fiery sparks as it pulses through the night sky, creating a thin outline of a dragon.

"What the _hell_!" Ophelia screams.

Hobbits are panicking as well, knocking over tables.

"It's an EFFIN' firework!" I scream, but the 'dragon' itself drowns out my screams.

The 'dragon' soars just above us, making Hobbits duck, and I can feel the heat of the gold flame.

It soars into the distance until it explodes into gold and red showers of multiple fireworks, lighting the night.

"Awesome!" Ophelia screams.

"Same here!" I scream back.

Many Hobbits agree with us, sending roars of applause.

A few minutes later, many Hobbits start into a chant, _Speech_! _Speech_! _Speech_!

Ophelia gives me a questioning look but I shrug my shoulders like, _What the heck, why not? _and we join the chant.

"Alright, alright!" Bilbo finally gives in. He stands on a barrel.

"My dear Bagginses and Boffins," Begins Bilbo*. "And my dear Tooks and Brandybucks, and Grubbs, and Chubbs, and Burrowses, and Hornblowers, and Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Goodbodies, Brockhouses and Proudfoots. Also, my good Sackville-Bagginses that I welcome back at last to Bag End. Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday; I am eleventy-one today!"

Ophelia and I cheer for Bilbo. "Go Bilbo!"

"I hope you are enjoying yourselves as much as I am!" Bilbo continues.

I howl, "YES!"

"I shall not keep you long," Bilbo says, after the crowd calms down. "I have called you all for a Purpose. Indeed, three Purposes. First of all, I am immensely fond of all of you. Secondly, to celebrate my birthday. Thirdly and finally, I wish to make an ANNOUNCEMENT."

This word echoes across the field, and everyone starts to listen carefully.

"I regret to announce this is the END," Bilbo exerts himself, trying to emphasize as loudly as he could. "I am going. I am leaving NOW. GOODBYE!"

With a flash of light, Bilbo disappeared in a flash of light, leaving 144 guests flabbergasted.

"Ada! Lia!" I hear Frodo's strangled voice. "Where did he go? Please help me find him before… before… he goes! Please."

"Alright, Frodo, alright," Ophelia tries to soothe the worried Hobbit. "Where do you think he would be?"

"I don't know," Frodo wailed miserably. "Let's do a perimeter of the party, then we'll go check Bag End."

"Sure, Frodo," I nod. "Let's go."

* * *

Poor Frodo is all out of breath after twenty minutes. "To-o Ba-ag En-d-d we go-o."

"Frodo, you okay?" Ophelia asked.

"Ju-ust per-fec-t-t," Frodo panted. "May-aybe a-a bi-it of-f re-est?"

"Sure Frodo," I sympathize.

"Okay," Frodo says after a bit of time. "Let's go."

We sprinted to Bag End and Frodo slams open the door.

"My precious…" I hear Gandalf murmur, thoughtfully. "My precious…"

"He's gone, isn't he?" Frodo says in a forlorn tone. He picked up something from the ground. A ring? "He talked for so long about leaving, I didn't think he'd really do it."

"Don't worry, Frodo," Ophelia comforts him. "Don't worry. Bilbo probably had a chance and couldn't pass it up."

Frodo walked to Gandalf. "Gandalf?" Frodo opened his palm to reveal a gold ring.

"Bilbo's ring," Gandalf has a painful smile on his face. "He's gone to stay with the elves. He's left you Bag End."

Frodo doesn't look very _happy _about this. Gandalf offered him an envelope to put the ring inside, and Frodo slowly obeyed, Gandalf sealed it.

"He also left you all his possessions," Gandalf added.

"Erm, Gandalf?" Ophelia cleared her throat. "Now that Bilbo's gone… I _really _have to tell you something."

"What is it my dear?" Gandalf says, but his eyes aren't on her. "What is it?"

"Can…" Ophelia's voice fails her. "Can it be somewhere private?"

"Of course," Gandalf rose from his seat, saying to Frodo; "The ring is yours now, keep it out of sight. Frodo, wait here, we will be just but a minute."

We walked into Bilbo's study and locked the door firmly behind us.

"We're from another world," Ophelia said, bluntly. Wow, way to put it gently.

"Excuse me?" Gandalf's only movement is in his eyes, widening in shock.

"We…" Ophelia tries again. "When we woke up…"

She told him the whole tale and showed him our backpack, after receiving them from our rooms. She also told him how I was a human girl before I came here.

"… and that's how we ended up here and we forgot to tell you after a while because we might've forgotten…?"

Gandalf continues to smoke his pipe weed, looking deep in thought. "If what you claim is true, the Valor must've sent you to fix something."

"Of course what we said is true!" I exclaim. "Look at these things!" I wiggled my iPod.

"Yes, yes, of course," Gandalf corrects himself. "I want to you go with Frodo wherever he goes. He might be in danger and you have experience with weapons. I would normally not send women but… desperate situations call for desperate solutions."

"Of course, Gandalf," Ophelia says immediately. Something about the not send women part probably irked her.

"Now, there are things I must see to," Gandalf abruptly stood up and marched out the studies door.

"Gandalf, where are you going?" Frodo asks him.

"I need questions that need answering," Gandalf says in a harsh tone. Frodo looks surprised for a second.

"You've only just arrived, Gandalf!" Frodo protests. "I don't understand."

Gandalf halts at the open door. "Neither do I." Gandalf bent forward to rest an arm on Frodo's shoulder. "Keep it secret. Keep it safe."

Gandalf rushed out the door, leaving Frodo more confused than ever.

* * *

"Did you make Gandalf leave?" Frodo asks us, leading us to _The Green Dragon_**.

"I'm not sure," Admits Ophelia. "Maybe, but you know Gandalf, all he did was smoke his weed."

"Where is The Green Dragon?" I ask Frodo.

"Here," Frodo smiles. "The best weed to smoke, yes."

Ophelia and I look at each other, telepathically speaking, _Don't you dare_!

We nod at each other, satisfied.

After many burps, ales, beers, farting Hobbits, _singing _Hobbits, and god, don't make me list everything we finally went out of the Green Dragon, exiting with Sam and Rosie Cotton at the door.

"Goodnight lads and lassies," She smiles at us and Sam blushes.

"Goodnight!" Frodo, Ophelia and I smile back and we walk out.

"Goodnight," Said a croaky voice., behind us. "Sweet maiden of the golden ale."

This was directed to Rosie and she smiled and bid him a goodnight.

"Mind who you're sweet-talking to," Grumbled Sam.

"Don't worry, Sam," Frodo says gaily. "Rosie knows an idiot when she see one."

"She does?" I ask surprised and Ophelia sends me a withered look.

When we reach Bag End, we bid Sam a goodnight and he does the following.

"So… sleepy," I yawn.

"I thought elves were supposed to _not _be tired," Frodo wondered out loud.

"Just go inside Frodo," I muttered, very unhappily.

When we went inside Bag End, everything was dark and gloomy, and frankly, it scared me. "Frodo, this is _creepy_."

"I don't remember the window being open…" Ophelia murmured. "Didn't we close it?"

We walk to close the window, I, being the tallest, reaching over to close it –

"Is it secret? Is it safe?"

I let out a shriek and Frodo let out a gasp. Ophelia just stood there.

"Gandalf?" Ophelia says indignantly. You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Frodo, the ring!" Gandalf, looking very haggard, urged.

Frodo drew the envelope from a chest, and Gandalf threw it into the flames.

"Gandalf! What the heck, du -?"

"Shhh…" Gandalf shushed me. He grabbed tonsils, to drag the ring, the envelope all crispy and blackened, out.

"Take it," Gandalf whispered.

Frodo gave him an _Are you crazy? _look but did as he asked.

"It's quite cool," Gandalf assured Frodo. "Can you see anything?"

"Nothing," Frodo looked disappointed. "There's nothing."

Gandalf let out a sigh.

"Wait," This caught all of our attention. "There are markings."

"Is that some form of Elvish?" Ophelia asked.

"I can't read it," Frodo ignored Ophelia. "Can you?"

"There are few who can," Gandalf said gravely. "The language is of Mordor, which I will not utter here."

"Mordor?" I asked confused. Frodo looks frightened but aw is in his eyes.

"In the Common Tongue it says,

_One ring to rule them all/One ring to find them/One ring to bring them all/And in the darkness bind them_. This is the One Ring, forged by the dark lord Sauron."

"Sauron…?" Frodo trails his question.

"Yes, yes, Sauron," Explained Gandalf patiently. "This ring was taken by Isildur from the very hand of Sauron."

"Bilbo found it," Ophelia says out loud by mistake. "In Gollum's cave."

Frodo stares at her, but Gandalf pays no heed. "Yes, that is true. Only Gollum knew of Bilbo and I tried to track him down as fast as I could, but it was too late. The enemy had found him first."

Gandalf sighed heavily and said, "I do not know how long they tortured him, but as soon as he uttered the words 'Baggins' and 'Shire' Bilbo can be easily found."

"Shire? Baggins?" Frodo says panicked. I was too.

"That would lead them here!" Ophelia says, horrified.

"Take it, Gandalf!" Frodo says desperately. "Take it!

"I cannot!" Gandalf refused. "I cannot take it!"

"I'm giving it to you!"

"DON'T!" Gandalf says in a dangerous voice. "Do _not _tempt me, Frodo!"

"But – but –" Frodo flailed for words.

"You must understand, I would use this ring, Frodo, and I cannot keep it, not even to keep you safe," Gandalf says, remorse in his eyes.

"But it can't stay here!" Ophelia says, logically.

"No, no it can't!" Gandalf agreed, heartily.

"Are you saying we must go to Bree?" Frodo says. "That's absurd!"

"You must leave immediately, Frodo," Gandalf says. "And I want you to take Lia and Ada with you, is that clear? Keep them close, they are experienced with weapons."

We hastily packed, ahem Frodo, Ophelia and I just grabbed our backpacks and some water.

"Frodo are you ready?" Ophelia asked softly.

"I will meet you at the end of the Prancing Pony," Gandalf informed me and I nodded to tell him I understood. "Abandon your names, stay off the road and travel only by day. I will speak to the head of our order. Trust me. He will know what to do."

A rustle in the bush caught our attention.

"Get down!" Gandalf hissed at us, and we dropped.

Gandalf crept to the still open window and struck his cane down on… a Hobbit?

Gandalf reached and pulled out –

"Sam?" Ophelia asked, bug-eyed. "What are you doing here?"

"Tr-im-ming the gr-ass, sir! I mean, ma'am!"

"Don't you think it's a bit late to _trim the grass_?" Gandalf said in a low voice.

Sam stuttered and Gandalf looked at him threateningly. "Were you eavesdropping Samwise Gamgee?

"No, sir!" Sam squeaked. "I have never dropped eaves! All I heard was a good deal about a ring, a dark lord and the end of the world! Please don't turn me into anything unnatural!"

Gandalf looked amused and a smirk went to his lips. "Oh, oh no, Samewise. I have a_ much _better way to deal with you. How about an… adventure?"

Same looked horrified.

"This," Ophelia whispered to me. "Is a _wonderful _way to start saving the world."

*This speech is from the LOTR _book_. I decided to clear things up. Also, I may have cut out a bit of the speech. Okay, a lot. Sorry and thank you for understanding.

**Totally made this up, they are in a bar, but I'm not sure if it's the Green Dragon or not.

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Well, here's another chapter! I hope you enjoyed. Reviews are loved!


	5. Chapter 4 - Ophelia

Chapter 4 – Ophelia 

In truth, our adventure was quite peaceful. We ate our fill and Adeline and I agreed that one day, we would share them our chocolate we had found at the bottom of our backpacks. One day I heard singing. It was beautiful. Frodo, leaning on a tree, sat up instantly.

"What is that sound?" Adeline wondered out loud. "Let's go! What are you waiting for?"

We followed Adeline and scampered through the foliage.

What we saw were beautiful creatures, glowing like the moon itself.

Frodo smiles, joyfully, and whispers, "Wood-elves!"

When we reach the elves Frodo suddenly looks sad. "They… they are going to the harbor beyond the white towers. The Grey Haven."

"They are leaving Middle Earth?" Adeline asked.

"Never to return," Sam said, quietly. "Tis sad, is it not?"

"Yes," I say, softly. "It is."

* * *

We reach a field of crops, corn I think. Adeline and I follow Frodo quietly and, after a while, we lose track of Sam.

"Frodo?" Adeline says, greatly alarmed. "Where's Sam?"

"Frodo?" We hear a panicked voice. "Lia? Ada!"

We backtrack a bit and see a very relieved Hobbit.

"Oh good," Sam sighs. "I thought I'd lost you."

"What are you talking about, Sam?" I asked him. "We were only a few paces ahead."

"It's – it's just something Gandalf said," Sam began.

"_Estúpido asistente_!*" Adeline mutters angrily. Frodo looks back at her, his face wondering what Adeline had said. "Nothing important, Frodo."

"What did Gandalf say?" Frodo implored.

"'Don't you lose them, Samwise Gamgee,'" Sam quoted.

"Sam," Adeline says, with a roll of her eyes. "We're still in the Shire. You can't lose us _that _easily can you?"

"Exactly," Frodo grins. "What could possibly happen?"

"_Move_!" I scream to Adeline. We back up instantly.

Suddenly, two Hobbits crash into Frodo and Sam.

"Agh-h-h!" Sam says, annoyed. "What -?"

"Frodo!" A Hobbit said with an… Irish, Scottish accent. "Merry, it's Frodo, lad!"

"Hello, Frodo!" Merry said cheerfully.

"Get off him!" Sam mutters in a _Why me _voice and shoves the Hobbit into the crops. "You okay, Mister Frodo?"

"Hold this, lads!" Merry says, shoving vegetables into Sam's arms. "M'lady." He says bowing to me.

"C'mon!" Merry says, urges.

"You've been into Farmer Maggot's field, haven't you?" Sam accused.

"No time for that, Sam," I say, hastily. "Come, now, before he has our heads!"

We charge into the other side of the crops, Frodo screaming, "I don't under_stand_!"

"It was only a few carrots!" The Hobbit protests.

"And cabbages!" Adds Merry. "And those bag of potatoes!"

"And – and those mushrooms!" The Hobbit heaved.

"Yes, Pippen!" Frodo looks tired. "My _point _is that he is clearly over reacting!"

"Do you do this often?" Adeline asks, curious.

"Doesn't matter, lass," Pippen pants. "We'll be outta his crops soon enough."

Frodo stops, suddenly, which causes Sam to run into him, causing Merry to run into him, and cause Pippen to finally push them over a cliff.

"Frodo! Merry!" Adeline says. "Pippen, Sam!"

"How are we going to follow them?" I ask worriedly.

"Like this," And Adeline pushes me off the ledge. "_Zut_!** Adeline!"

"Love ya too!" Adeline grins in mirth and rolls herself off the cliff, too.

I manage to get a grip and stop falling for an effing _second _until Adeline pushes me _again_.

"Adeline!" I say, rolling over and over and over. "Once this is over, I kill you!"

We land on something soft. Or at least I did. "What in the world…?"

"Ow-w-w, get off me!" I hear (Pippen?) say.

"Will do, will do," I say and kick him in the head by accident.

"Youch!" Pippen exclaims. "What was that for, M'lady?"

"Sorry, Pippen," I apologize and hit Adeline in the head as well.

"Ouch!" Adeline cries out. "What was that for, M'lad – I mean Lia?"

I glare at her and said, "You know fully well, why."

"Trust a Brandybuck and Took!" Sam mutters angrily.

"Ah," Merry said, looking crestfallen. "That was just a detour. A shortcut."

"A shortcut to _what_?" I say in a dangerous voice. I am pissed. "A shortcut to _what_?"

Merry ignores me and says, gleefully, "Mushrooms!"

"Indeed there are, "Adeline says, trying to impersonate Dumbledore and failing.

Frodo walks to the side, looking very wary.

"You okay, Frodo?" I ask him.

"I think we should get off the road," Frodo judges.

A screech is in the air, following a flurry of leaves. "Did you – did you hear that?"

Adeline nods, "Come on, Hobbits, let's get off the road."

"Get off the road, quick!" Frodo says in s strangled, panicked voice.

We all rush to the side of the road, where there is a convenient hiding place, roots o obscure us from sight.

"Shh," I shush the frightened Hobbits. "Shh."

A gallop is heard, a horse. It stops, right above out hiding place. A _clank _is made above, did the rider get off?

Underneath us, there are centipedes and giant spiders, me and Adeline try not squirm or scream out.

A heavy panting is heard, and when I look behind me, there are giant, black horse hooves.

A strange… language? It sounds like parsel-tongue, from Harry Potter.

Frodo breathes in deeply, closing his eyes, pulling out the ring. He is about to put it on… Sam clasps his hand over Frodo's sending him a _no_, look. He nods and I breathe in a breath.

This dude has got to go away. I grip a sack of what-cha-ma-call-it's and heave it over my shoulder, making a _thump_, _thump_, _thump_, as it rolls.

The bad dude's horse rears to the sound and flees.

We run for our lives.

* * *

Nighttime has fallen, and we are still running. It was like a life-or-death situation of manhunt. I don't know how to erase the dude's image from my head, so I'll try to describe it to you.

He was like a dementor, on a horse, wearing armour and has wicked sword skills. There. That feels better.

"C'mon, Lia," Frodo whispers to me. "We can't dilly-dally."

"Roger that, Frodo," I gulp. I was truly scared. This was nothing like I had imagined.

"What is going on?" Pippen asks. "What?"

"That black-rider was looking for something," Merry says in a low voice. "Or someone."

"It doesn't matter, Merry," Adeline tries to shoo away from the topic. "And Pippen, everything will be answered later."

"Get down!" I tell them. I spotted the Rider. I don't want to be racist. Even to those… things.

We drop faster than the fire-drill program tells us to and look through the mangled branches.

"We have to get out of the Shire," Adeline says, softly.

"Bree," Frodo agrees.

"Right," Merry looks nervous. "Buckleberry Ferry, follow me."

We run to the east, hoping to –

"AH-H-H!" Adeline shrieks. An effing Rider.

I desperately try to grab the sword on my back, to discover, I didn't have my sword.

"Stupid!" I curse to myself. Adeline shoots him with an arrow, distracting him enough so we can continue to flee.

Sam stumbles and I pull him up, "C'mon, Sam! We'll die if we don't hurry!"

"Right," He pants.

Adeline and I swing over a fence, easily, and race down the slope at a high pace.

"There!" I say to Ada. "Untie the ropes!"

We get on, near the side, allowing the Hobbits to hurry on aboard, Frodo not being there. 7

"Frodo!" I scream to Adeline. "Where is he?"

"Frodo!" I hear Pippen yell. "C'mon! You can do it!"

The Rider is behind him. "Shoot him, Ada!"

"I can't!" Adeline whispers, miserably. "What if I shoot Frodo?"

"Frodo!" I scream. The raft is slowly dwindling away from shore. "Frodo, jump!"

He does and I reach out to him, bringing him closer. "You okay?"

The Rider screeches out, leaving us, in dead silence.

"How far is the nearest crossing?" Adeline asks Merry.

"Brandywine Bridge," Merry says, gravely. "Twenty miles."

The Rider that was chasing us, joins his friends. One… two…

"Oh, joy," I mutter sarcastically to Adeline.

She looks at me. "Not the time to be sarcastic, Lia."

* * *

We hop off the raft quick enough, and by that time, it is pouring rain, and we put our hoods up to protect ourselves from the wetness.

"Merry?" I ask. "How much longer?"

"We're here… Lia?" He tries the name out. I nod to him and he looks satisfied.

Adeline knocks on the door, and a man with scrunched up features opens the wall's door.

"Hobbits," He wheezes. "Four of them, and two ladies. What's more out of the Shire, and what business is of yours?"

"We wish to stay at the inn," Adeline says, looking around, making sure there are no Riders near us. "And our business is our own."

"Alright, lass," The man says. "I meant no offence. It's my job to ask questions after nightfall, after all. There are strange folk these days."

We walk in, the rain pouring down in sheets now, and we walk towards the village.

There are strange folks, some eating carrots, some doing work, but this place is still alive, even after night.

"This place gives me the creeps," Adeline shudders. "Who eats raw carrots in the _rain_, anymore?"

I shrug. "There are wizards, Hobbits and magical weapons. Honestly, I'm not surprised by anything, anymore."

We walk through the rain, pounding on us, creating annoying sound effects like, _plunk_ or _crash _or _flaaboom_.

"There," Frodo breathes. "We'll meet Gandalf, now."

We all sub consciously look to sign.

The Prancing Pony.

*Stupid wizard! In Spanish.

**Heck! In French.

Disclaimer

I own nothing you recognize, or heard of before.

**Author's Note**

Thank you so much for _alexma _for reviewing my story. I was expecting criticism, but your comment made my day. I hope this is a good update.

_BlueDaylighter_


	6. Chapter 5 - Adeline

Chapter 5 – Adeline 

We enter the Prancing Pony, laughter in the wake.

"Excuse me," Frodo says in a tentative voice.

A man leans over, scraggly hair and a kind voice. "Good evening masters and ladies, what can I do for you?"

He leans forward even more. "If you Hobbits want accommodation, we have nice, Hobbit size rooms, and nice rooms for the ladies as well."

He continues. "Always proud to cater for women, uhh…"

"Celia," Ophelia answers him, her face rock hard.

"Adrianna," I say in return.

The man nods, "And proud to cater for little-folk, Mister…?"

Frodo pauses, before saying, "Underhill. My name is Underhill."

"Underhill… hmm," The man thinks.

"We're friends of Gandalf the Grey," Ophelia says hastily. "Have you seen him?"

"Gandalf… Gandalf…" The man knits his eyebrows. "Ah, yes! Elderly chap. Big, grey beard. Pointy hat."

Frodo smiles encouragingly.

"Haven't seen him for six months," The man says crashing our hopes.

We bow our heads together. "What do we do now?"

Merry and Pippen grin at each other.

"Oh no," Ophelia and I groan.

* * *

"Don't worry, guys," Ophelia reassures Sam and Frodo. "Gandalf will come."

Across the room there are Merry and Pippen. Merry comes with a huge cup of ale?

"Shi –" Ophelia slaps her hand over my mouth. "Oh no, is that an effing _pint_ or _ale_?"

"What is that?" Pippen asked.

"This," Merry says proudly. "Is a _pint_."

"It comes in pints?" Pippen says, jealously. "I'm getting one."

"No, Pippen don't!" I begged. "You've already had –"

"He's gone," Sam grumbles. "Frodo, that man over there, mean nothing but trouble. He's been staring at you since you've arrived."

The man who greeted us walk over and Ophelia tugs him down. "Excuse me. That man in the corner. Who is he?"

"He's one o' them Rangers," The man sends, giving us a cautious look. "Dangerous folk. His real name has never been heard, but around here, he's known as Strider."

The man hurries off to deliver more ale to the customers.

Frodo closes his eyes and I hear a sharp _Baggins… Baggins… _

Many people stare at us, for a while, as Frodo is in a trance.

"Baggins!" Pippen gives a drunken laugh. "I know a Baggins. Frodo! He's over there. Frodo Baggins, he's my second cousin, once removed from my mother's side!"

"Pippen!" Frodo cries desperately, but the damage is done. "How could you?"

Frodo bumps into Pippen, spilling his ale, and sends Frodo flying backwards.

"Frodo!" I say, trying to catch him.

I see the ring rising upwards, and landing softly on Frodo's finger. He disappeared.

"Frodo!" Ophelia tried to locate him.

"Maybe he went up the stairs," I suggest. "Let's go!"

"Draw your weapon," I tell Ophelia. She quickly pulls out her sword.

We try several different rooms until we hear footsteps.

Ophelia gestures me to notch an arrow and she herself moves gracefully behind the door.

Strider walks in, shoving Frodo, him discovering that I have an arrow pulled, right at his heart, and, Ophelia, a sword in her hand.

"You have ten seconds to tell us why you kidnapped, Underhill," Ophelia says, her voice measured. "Before my friends arrow goes straight through your heart."

* * *

Strider does something I did not expect. Laugh.

"You have very talented friends, Underhill," Strider says. Then he completely ignores us. "I can disappear, as if I had never been somewhere, into the shadow, but disappearing completely, that's is a rare gift."

Frodo sputters.

"Tell me, what trinket do you carry," Strider demands.

"I carry no trinket," Frodo defends himself.

"Who are you?" Ophelia asks, bravely. "Tell me, what is your name?"

Strider moves around, my arrow following him. "I saw no weapons at your disposal when you first arrived."

"How do you know we might've just stolen them?" I ask him. "Now, answer my friend."

"Are you scared?" He avoids the question.

"Of what?" Ophelia answers a question with a question. "You or those Black Riders?"

"Of anything."

"Then, yes," Ophelia says, confidently. "But why would you need to know that?"

A banging on the door, Strider pulls out a gleaming sword, my arrow, though, is still at his heart.

"Let them go!" Sam says, his fists balled. "Let them go, I say!"

"Your friends are stout, Mister Underhill, but that will do you no good," Strider sheaths his sword. "You are not safe anywhere. _They are coming_."

The temperature goes down like ten degrees, and Strider says; "You will sleep here. It is not safe anywhere else."

* * *

Ophelia and I called a truth with Strider, but we were still wary of him.

"What are your names?" Strider questions us, cleaning his sword with a rag.

"What is yours?" I challenge him. The Hobbits were sleeping, peacefully, but Ophelia insisted at least one of s didn't, as this Strider character was still shady.

"You are both wise, but to call this a proper truth, I cannot call you _she _for the rest of your life, can I?" Strider points out.

"You may call me Cecilia," Ophelia growls. "I'm not too happy about this."

"Adrianna," I resign and count my arrows. Fourteen.

"You are an elf, are you not?" Strider asks me, observing.

"You are a Ranger, are you not?" I mimic him.

"I have never seen an elf with hair like yours," Strider looks at Ophelia's midnight, black hair. "Or yours."

"Maybe we're a rare race of elves and humans," Ophelia glares at him. "What are they?"

"The Black Riders?" Strider asks us. "They were once men, great kings of Men, then Sauron deceived them, giving them nine rings of power, because of their greed, they took them without question. One by one, they fell to the darkness. Now, they are slaves, bent to his will."

"_Wow, histoire d'un feu de camp, beaucoup_?"* Ophelia tells me and I nearly snicker. Nearly.

"What language is that?" Strider asks, his face suddenly curious. "I have heard all forms of Elvish, Khuzdol and others, but never have I wandered across that one."

"It is the language of my people," Ophelia says. True enough, we live in BC, but Canada's two official languages are French and English so…

"And, where do you hail?"

"We hail far from here, you have probably never even heard of it, few have," I say, going all Shakespearean. "Far to the west."

"_Conneries_,"** Ophelia grins at me. "_Mais_,you never know."***

"Look outside," Strider says in a mysterious voice. "If you dare."

The Black Riders were circling outside, in the rain, screeching. My hearing had gotten a lot better and my ears hurt.

"Ouch," I say. "That hurts."

"You cover your ears," Strider informs me. "It will hurt much more if you uncover them."

"Thank you, Mister Helpful," I glare at him.

The Hobbits wake up to see the Riders leaving. "What are they?"

"Ring-Wraiths," Strider says, cocking his head. "Neither alive nor dead. All times they feel the presence of the ring. Drawn to the One. They will never stop hunting you. Never."

* * *

We exit the Prancing Pony in the morning, going to the forest, leaving the Hobbits very disgruntled.

"Where are you taking us?" Frodo calls out, him lagging behind me.

"Into the wild," Strider says at the same time I say, "Somewhere safe."

Behind us, the Hobbits are having their own private conversation.

"How can we trust this Strider?" Merry growls to Frodo. "How can we trust this is a friend of Gandalf's?"

"Lia and Ada trust him," Frodo prompts. "If they trust him, I will too. And, Merry, we have no other choice at the moment."

The corner of Strider's mouth raises when he heard my nickname. I scowl and have half the mind to skewer him with an arrow.

"Where are you taking us?" Ophelia says, stiffly.

"Rivendell, Cecilia," Strider says, patiently. "The House of Lord Elrond."

This causes the Hobbits to erupt into excited chatter.

"Good job Mister Loud-sa-lot," I say sarcastically. "Did you forget to mention there is a high possible chance we could _die_?"

* * *

After a couple of hours, the Hobbits start to slow down and Pippen has a frying pan in his hand.

"Gentlemen," Strider announces. "We do not stop till nightfall."

"But – but what about breakfast?" Pippen complains.

"We've already had it," Strider looks confused.

"We had one, yes," Pippen clarifies. "But what about _second _breakfast?"

You could practically Strider's eye rolling from miles away.

"I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip," Merry says and tries to follow Strider.

Pippen scrambles after him. "What about Elevenses? Luncheons? Afternoon Tea? Dinner? _Supper_? He knows about them, doesn't he?"

"I wouldn't count on it, Pip," Merry says and claps him on the shoulder. Merry catches an apple that Strider tossed to him.

Pippen catches one, too and mutters many profanities.

"Here, Pippen," I dig out a Hershey's Kiss from my backpack. I discovered I had about thirty of those. I also take off the wrapper. "This will ward off your hunger."

Ophelia sees what it is and chuckles. "Do the opposite, maybe."

Pippen sniffed it. "Looks like mud. Smells good, though."

"Try it, Pip," I roll my eyes. "Or give it back."

Pippen pops it in his mouth. His eyes go dreamy. "What is this, Ada?"

"It's called chocolate, where I am from, Pippen," I say and add, "Tis good, is it not?"

"Better than the Green Dragon's ale," Pippen says. "So good."

"Now, walk Pippen," I order him. "Walk."

* * *

Night has fallen and Strider has hunted a deer for us to eat. Strider skins it, and I observe quietly, to make sure I can do it next time.

"I will take guard," Strider says to us, and sits on a rock, still.

Ophelia silently asks me to pretend I am asleep, but make sure Strider is trustworthy. I nod at her proposal. Since I have become an elf, I have needed less and less sleep.

After a few minutes, Strider begins to sing. His voice is rough and crackly, but it can hold a tune. I immediately know it is some form of love-song. Call it a women's institution.

"Who is the women you sing of?" I ask him and he looks surprised I am awake.

"Tis matter not," Strider waves his hand. "You do not understand Sindarin?"

"Where I hail from, elves are scarce, and many do not know the proper language," I say. Hey, you never know. Santa's elves might be real.

"What a strange place you hail from," Strider murmurs. "Why don't you sleep?"

"I am an elf," I snip. I have no idea if that makes a difference but Strider just chuckles.

"Of course," He states and I look up at the sky.

"Beautiful," I whisper.

"Do you not see the stars often?"

I curse at myself. "Not as often as I would like. Not as often as I would like…"

* * *

We walk and walk and walk. This is the adventure for quite some time until we reach stony ruins, looking like a perfect Halloween set-up.

"We will rest here," Strider says in a loud voice.

When we reach the top, the Hobbits are out of breath and are panting on the ground.

Strider hands out swords the Hobbits. "These are for you. Keep them close. I will go scout for a bit."

"May I go with you?" Ophelia asks him.

I sigh. How long until she fully trusts him?"

"Of course Miss Cecilia," Strider has a smile on as they climb rocks and dig through roots.

I decide to sleep.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Frodo asks, dumbstruck. "Put it out, you fools, put it out!"

"Well that's nice!"

I open my eyes, suddenly aware of everything. "What happened?"

"They lit a fire, Ada!" Frodo panics.

"Oh, shit!" I curse.

We hear a screeching. I hate screeching.

"Oh no, no, no, no," I chant. "This is bad, bad, bad."

The Ring-Wraiths climb up, slowly but surely.

"Draw your weapons," I order them. I notch yet another arrow.

We scramble to the top of the ruins, at the very edge, as five Ring-Wraiths chase after us. I try to shoot one of them and it does nothing. Nada. Zero. I decide to save my arrows.

The Ring-Wraiths draw their sword, going into perfect formation, and trapping us.

Sam tries to fight the Ring-Wraiths but to no avail. They clash his sword out of his hand. Pippen. Merry and I are next, we are thrown to the side, painfully and I grow very dizzy.

I do not see Frodo. Did he put on his ring?

A scream rings through the ruins and I instantly recognize that as Frodo.

"Frodo…" I wheeze. "Frodo, where are you?"

I see Ophelia and Strider, coming out with torches, fighting off the Ring-Wraiths. Ring-Wraiths are very flammable.

"Ada!" Ophelia looks at me.

Strider fights off the last of the Ring-Wraiths. Frodo screams as he turns visible again.

Ophelia goes to his side. "Frodo… Frodo… are you… Stupid question. You'll be fine."

"Strider!" I call to him. "Help him!"

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade," A blade disappears as he names it. "This is beyond my abilities to heal. He needs elvish medicine."

Ophelia looks deathly pale as Strider picks him up.

*Wow, campfire story, much? In French.

**Bullshit. In French

***But. In French.

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Well, that ending sucked. Hopefully, by the next chapter, Ophelia and Adeline should be in Rivendell.

Also, thank you for pointing out my mistake, _alexma_. I really hate google translate sometimes.

_BlueDaylighter_


	7. Chapter 6 - Ophelia

Chapter 6 – Ophelia 

I was ready to cry. There. I said it. My pride couldn't drop more than this. First, I stupidly leave Ada and the others and then Frodo gets stabbed by a stupid Morgul blade.

"Please tell me he's going to be okay," I beg Strider.

"Sam!" Strider says to the Sam. "Are you familiar with the plant athelas?"

"Athelas?"

"Kingsfoil."

"Kingsfoil, well, that's a weed!"

"It might help the pain," Strider informs him and Sam hurries to find it.

"C'mon, Frodo," I mutter to him. "Don't die now."

A glowing light emits from the trees.

"More elves?" Adeline asks me.

A beautiful elf with long brown hair and had blue eyes comes out on a white horse.

"Who is she?"

"She's an elf," Sam looks wonderstruck.

"Frodo," The elf's voice is airy and has an angelic tone to hit. "He's fading, and fast. We need to get him to my father."

Strider picks him up and seats him on top of her horse.

"There are five Wraiths following you, and the other four I do not know," The elf warns us.

"Where are you taking him?" I demand, but Strider and the elf just ignore me. Yippee.

Strider and the elf start to talk in a foreign language and Adeline looks just as confused as I do.

"Ride hard, Arwen, and don't look back," Strider looks into her eyes and she nods, determined and speeds off into the forest.

"Are you crazy?" Sam screams at Strider. "Those Wraiths are still out there!"

He was right. The Wraiths would be chasing them. Pity how it was our only option.

* * *

We reach Rivendell in a fast pace, hoping that Frodo is there.

"Do you think he made it?" Adeline asks me, her voice concerned.

"He has to!" I snap. Then I lower my voice. "I'm sorry, Ada, I'm just so worried."

"No problem," Ada looks glum. "I – he has to, like you said. If he doesn't… this whole adventure's been for nothing."

Rivendell is beautiful. Cliffs surround the grand city, waterfalls, streaming downwards, making the most beautiful _ker-plunk_ sounds.

When an elf greets us, I immediately say; "Frodo? Is he alright? Did Arwen's father save him? If you elves let him I die, I will skewer you with a –"

"Sorry," Adeline apologizes. "She's been emotional, lately."

"Understood," The shocked elf said. "And, yes, I know this Frodo. He is healing in one of the rooms."

"And that is…?" I persisted.

"I can lead you –"

"Not happening, buddy, where is he?" I'm losing my patience.

"Eight rooms to the left, but –"

I charge towards the room.

I hear Adeline apologize for me and runs after me. "Lia! Wait up!"

I charge into the indicated room and Gandalf is in there, with a sleeping Frodo.

"Gandalf!" I am scowling. "_Now_, you show up?"

"I am sorry, my dear," Gandalf looks sincere. "I was caught up."

My eyes travel to Frodo. "Is he okay?"

"He is resting, my dear," Gandalf says, stating the obvious. "And you should too."

* * *

I didn't. Adeline, Sam and I hardly left his side, taking his temperature and all that fancy stuff, cooling his forehead.

Once, Lord Elrond came to us and we told him our story, pulling out our iPods, and playing music, making him going all wondrous.

"What is this sorcery?" He would ask.

"It isn't sorcery," Adeline says, frustrated. "We. Are. From. Another. World."

He nods at us and believes us as well. "This… is very strange."

"No, really?" I say sarcastically. "And, Adeline was a human before."

"She was?"

"Yes, I was," Adeline says. "And I want to be a human again!"

This is how our conversation went most of the time.

Finally, on October 24th, Frodo chose to open his eyes.

"Frodo!" I squeal and wrap my arms around him. "How are you?"

"Going – to – di-ee, Lia!" Frodo chokes out. "Are you well?"

"Am _I _well?" I exclaim. "I should be the one asking you that! Now, where is that god-damned ring?"

"I – I – why? It's on the side table, I think…"

I grab it and Gandalf lets out a noise of protest. I throw it to the ground and stomp on it, then I chuck it at Adeline's head and I pick it back up and put it back on the side table.

"Ow-w-w," Moans Adeline. "What in the world…?"

"Sorry, Ada," I apologize to her. "Had to take my anger out on something."

"On my head?!"

"Better than Frodo," I shrug.

* * *

Lord Elrond has requested us to join a secret meeting. Joy? I met some pretty cool elves, but they were surprised I wanted to learn how to ride a horse properly. They were also surprised by my clothing.

"What kind of lady goes around wearing blue breeches?" They would ask. I would ignore them.

Lord Elrond gave me a room, and I decided to unpack _everything _that was in my magical backpack.

I find three pairs of pants and shirts. There is a black cloak as well. I find effin' _uggs _and chocolate. I also find my iPod and my earphones.

I wonder how they lasted that long without a charger. Whatever. I jam my earphones into my ears as begin playing _Drops of Jupiter _by _Train_.

_Now that she's back in the atmosphere,_

_With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey, hey_

_She acts like summer and walks like rain,_

_Reminds me that there's a time to change, hey, hey, hey_

_Since her return from her stay on the moon, _

_She listens like spring and she talk like June, hey, hey, hey_

_Hey, hey, hey…_

"Lia?" Adeline. "Are you in there?"

"Yes? What is it?"

"Umm, you won't like this… but…" Adeline sounds scared. "Lord Elrond…" Mumbling.

"What?"

"Lord Elrond… you know what? Never mind."

I never figured out what she wanted.

* * *

The day of the meeting slowly dwindled upon us, and I saw several different races. The race of Men and Dwarves.

"Ada!" I exclaim, clutching her arm. Elves give me strange looks. "Look! _Dwarves_."

"Yeah," Ada, tries to release her arm from me. "And from what I picked up, dwarves and elves are supposed to be enemies."

"You'll need to talk to one, anyways."

"When?"

"The _meeting_, Ada," More strange looks.

"I'm growing tired of this, what is it about my name that causes such confusion?" Ada says wearily.

"I'm going to library," I declare. "Maybe there will be some books in Common Tongue."

* * *

Finally, the hour of the meeting came. I wore torn jeans, long-sleeved black shirt and a cloak. Why not? I also arm myself with a dagger up my sleeve.

I see Adeline is in similar attire.

"Why the cloak?" Adeline snickers. "Assassin Creed, much?"

"Not, really," I defend myself. "Plus, most of them have white clothing and no jeans."

"Whatever, Lia," Adeline rolls her eyes.

I hear Lord Elrond's voice. "We wait for two more, they should be arriving soon."

Adeline and I walk forward, ignoring the stares of the already gathered council members.

"Excuse us for being late, Lord Elrond," Adeline says. "I hope we are not too late?"

"Just on time, Ada," Lord Elrond says. Elves give Lord Elrond strange looks.

"Gosh, I'm getting _really _tired of this, but I am about to skewer you elves, why in the whole world are you giving me strange looks or whoever says my name?" Adeline demands and the elves look away.

"Ah, are we going to start?" I say, filling the awkward silence.

"No!" A man (well I think. I don't see pointy ears or he isn't a midget) with reddish hair says. "Why is a _female _elf and a _female _woman doing here?"

"Have you got a _problem_ with that?" I say in a dangerous voice. "If you do, _please _speak up."

"Lord Elrond, these women cannot be possibly allowed here! Their delicate ears cannot take such horrible business!"

"Look, buddy," Adeline says this time. "I've heard _Ring-Wraiths_ screech, have you? Tell me, do you think my _delicate _ears took that?"

The men – males, rather – are stunned and Adeline and I take our seats. Lord Elrond clears his throat and we begin.

"Stranger from distant lands –" Adeline and I smirk – "friends of old, you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor," Elrond says in a leader-ish voice. "Middle Earth stands on the brink of destruction. None can escape it! You will either unite or you will fail."

_Dramatic, much? _I think in my head.

"Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom," Continues Lord Elrond. "Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

Frodo rises from his seat and places the ring on a stone table, center of the council.

"It is true…" The man with the reddish hair whispered, very quietly. "In a dream…"

_Oh, yippee. Suddenly dreams hold the key to stop the destruction of Earth? _My sarcastic mind says.

"… I saw the Easton sky grow dark. But in the west, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying; your doom is near at hand," The man walk towards the pedestal. "Isildur's bane is found."

The man reaches for the ring and Elrond shouts, "Boromir!"

A harsh voice fills the pavilion, and it sounds like the voice is from the ring itself. The sky darkens and thunder crackled overhead.

Gandalf starts chanting in a weird language and everyone is in fear and shock.

Light and warmth returns and Elrond looks mad. "Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!"

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may be heard in every corner of the west! The ring is altogether evil!" Gandalf shoots Boromir and scathing look and sits down.

"But it is a gift," Boromir argues. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring? Long has my father, the Stewart of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"

Strider says simply, "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The one ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what might a _Ranger _know of this matter?" Boromir seethed.

I looked at Adeline and covered my head in my hands. This was brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

A blonde elf stands up. "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Boromir looks at Strider – no Aragorn – in disbelief. Frodo stares at him in awe.

"Aragorn?" Boromir looks like he cannot get enough air in his lungs. "_This _is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," The blonde elf adds. Aragorn looks like, _Why me? _

_King, eh? _I mouth to him. _Wow. _

Aragorn looks like he is about to die in embarrassment. "… Legolas."

Legolas sits down.

Boromir, attempting to gather up his pride, says, "Gondor has no king, Gondor needs no king." He then sat down.

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf says in the midst of silence. "We cannot use it."

"You have one choice," Elrond stands up. "The ring must be destroyed."

A dwarf with a flaming red beard says gruffly, "Then what are we waiting for?"

The dwarf raises his axe and is about to –

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I say calmly, my hand at his wrist, just stopping the axe from falling down. Many males stare at me. Once again. "That axe is fine, Master Dwarf. I wouldn't want you to destroy it. I've tried to burn it, dent it, and I've thrown it at an elf's head. Nothing works."

The dwarf nods in understanding and many elves look offended.

"Lia is correct, the only way to destroy the ring, Gimli, son of Gloin. It can only be unmade where it was made – the fires of Mount Doom," Elrond says in an ominous voice. "It must be taken back to Mordor and cast into the flames of Mount Doom."

Everyone looks scared at this prospect.

"One of you," Elrond says in a grave voice. "Must do this."

There is a pregnant silence after that.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir states, his fingers on his forehead. "Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland. Riddled with ash and fire. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!"

"Well," I say quietly. Many eyes are on me. "Isn't it obvious then? You do not ten thousand men. In the company of Thorin Oakenshield, they reclaimed Erebor with thirteen dwarves, hobbit and a helpful Lakeman. They needed few in number."

Adeline catches on. "Exactly. You do not need great numbers. If you had maybe a group of ten, eleven, people, you could sneak in, using stealth and maybe you could find a back way."

"The great Eye could not notice so few people easily," I conclude. "It would be a perfect plan."

"And who would go?" Boromir says in disbelief.

"Have you heard nothing of what Lord Elrond said?" Legolas says angrily. "The ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" Gimli leaps to his feet.

"And if we fail, what then?" Question Boromir. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

I noticed the _when _instead of the _if _in Boromir's statement. Does he have that little faith?

"I will be _dead_," Gimli announces gruffly. "Before I see the ring in the hands of an elf!"

All races began to stand up, arguing, and Ada winces at the noise.

"Never trust an elf!" Gimli cries again.

More arguing, mainly between the dwarves and the elves.

Even Gandalf stands up, "Do you understand, while we bicker amongst ourselves, Sauron's power grows? None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!"

More chaos, confusion and what-not.

"I will take it!" Frodo pips up in a tiny voice. Nobody hears him except for Adeline and me.

"Shut UP!" Adeline yells. That shuts them up. "Will you _please _act your age and like _civilized _men?"

"I will take it!" Frodo repeats. "I will take the ring to Mordor!"

All the men look dumbstruck and awed at this Hobbits bravery.

"Though," Frodo pauses. "I do not know the way."

"And I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins," Gandalf says, sorrowfully. "As long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf pots a reassuring hand on Frodo's shoulder.

"And if by my life or death, I can protect you, I will," Aragorn knelt. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," Legolas joins them.

"And my axe," Gimli announced. Gimli looked at Legolas in distaste but quickly looked away.

That is when Adeline and I made a decision.

"Frodo Baggins," I started. "I have protected you from the beginning, and I will to the end. You have my sword as well."

"And you have my bow," Adeline said softly and we both knelt, and rose. Adeline whispered in Frodo's ear; "Don't worry Frodo. We'll be there no matter what."

"You carry the fate of all of us, little one," Boromir said slowly. "If this is indeed the will of the council, Gondor will see it done."

"Hey!" Sam? "Mister Frodo is going nowhere without me."

Sam emerged from a thicket of branches and Elrond looked amused. "No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you, even if he is summoned to a secret council and he is not."

"Oi!" A voice behind the pillars. "We're coming too!"

Elrond's face is priceless.

"You'd have to send us home, ties up in a sack to stop us!" Merry said, matter-of-factly.

"Anyways, you need people of intelligence on this mission… quest… thing," Pippen concludes.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip," Merry said.

"Eleven companions!" Elrond declares. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great," Pippen says, innocently. "Where are we going?"

Disclaimer 

I do not own anything you recognize

**Author's Note**

Thank you to _MidnightTales357 _for your encouraging words. Plus, I loved your story. Can't wait to see what happens next.

Thank you to _AbigailPeters _as well. Your encouraging words mean a lot to me.

Next chapter. I'm not sure if the Fellowship leave immediately in the movie, but I'm going to make them wait until Dec 25th, like in the book. Thanks J


	8. Chapter 7 - Adeline

Chapter 7 – Adeline

After Pippen's cute but idiotic sentence, all of us decided to get to know each other better, which meant to know each other's names.

"Adrianna," I say, curtly. I trust Gandalf, the Hobbits and Aragorn… ish, but I cannot trust the rest of these people so easily.

"Cecilia," Ophelia says, shortly.

"Are those your real names?" Blondie – Legolas? – asked.

"Why wouldn't they be?" I asked them. I was turning into Ophelia more and more.

Legolas looked startled that I had an answer. I ignore him and look… well, down, even if it was rude.

"Gimli, correct?" I ask him, warmly.

"Aye, lass, an elf?" He rebukes. I will not take no for an answer.

"Not all elves are pompous and arrogant, you know," I state. "To tell you the truth, after hearing Ring-Wraiths scream and screech, I would prefer not to be a bloody elf with bloody good hearing."

"Aye, lass," Gimli actually smiles at me.

"Gimli," Ophelia says, suddenly. "Can you do me a favour?"

"For saving me axe, lass, anything," Gimli chuckles.

"Well, I've heard the dwarves' skill in building is unequal…" Ah, flattery gets you anywhere. "I was wondering… could you make an instrument for me?"

"An instrument, lass?"

"Well, yes," Ophelia clarifies. "I've had it in my mind for quite some time, and it's like a bigger version of the fiddle."

"Well, come with me, lass!" And they walk away, merrily.

"Well…" I cough. "That went well. For Gimli and Lia, I mean."

"Boromir, m'lady," Boromir looks displeased that we are coming.

"Legolas," Legolas says, his face emotionless.

"And I already know you six, so, I'll be on my way…" I try to escape as easily as Ophelia did.

"Wait!" Frodo's voice stops me. "Where are you going?"

"To the library," I tell him. "I'm trying to find some god-damned Common Tongue books, but by the looks of it, they are all in some sort of Elvish."

"Would you like to learn –"

"Maybe I will with Lia," I cut Aragorn off. "Change of plans, I'm going see if Imladris has a fiddle somewhere…"

* * *

After my hasty departure and my fellow Fellowships shocked faces, I went to see Elrond.

"Umm, Lord Elrond?" I say, tentatively.

Elrond turns to me. "Yes?"

"Do you have a violin here?" I ask, stupid question. If they have a fiddle, as Gimli didn't over-react, they should have a violin, right?

Elrond looks surprised. "Why, yes, we do, here, I'll send you an elf, if you want."

I bow, "Thank you Lord Elrond."

"If I may ask," Elrond paused. "Why would you need a violin?"

I look down at my hands. "I – um – used to play a violin from where I was from. I would like to continue to practice, if you don't mind."

Elrond looks at me, "Alright, Celebreneth!"

An elf with pale blonde hair and silvery eyes comes forward. "Yes, my Lord Elrond?"

"Can you give Ada a violin?"

"Right away, m'lord," Cele – what's her name said. She gestures to me. "Follow me."

I rush forward, trying to keep up with her long strides. "So what's your name?"

"Celebreneth," She says, her eyes darting back and forth.

"Can I call you Brenna?" I ask her and she gives a jolt of surprise.

"Excuse me?" She asks. Hmm, maybe elves don't do nicknames.

"I said," I repeat. "Can I call you Brenna? Because I cannot pronounce your real name. It's too hard."

"Are you not an elf?"

"I am horrible at being an elf," I retort. "Plus, being an elf does not grant you full capability to pronounce hard names."

"Alright, then," Cele – Brenna – gives in. "You may."

"Sweet," I grin. "Where are the violins?"

"Over here, we keep extra, in case guests come," Brenna explains to me. "You can choose one, and keep it, if you wish."

"Oh my god, really?" I say. Christmas has come early. "Yippee!"

Brenna gives me a strange look. "Yes…?"

I pick the simplest violin, a polished brown and a matching bow. "Thank you so much, Brenna!"

I give a girlish scream and run out. I'm doing that quite often, aren't I?

* * *

I see Ophelia, a mad grin on her face.

"Guess what?" She asks. "Oh, guess what, what, what?"

"What," I ask, dryly, already knowing what it was.

"Gimli said he could make the guitar!" Ophelia gives a laugh. "I just needed to ask for some violin string*, lengthened, of course, and some wood. Isn't this awesome?"

"I got a violin from an elf named Cele – something, but I call her Brenna," I say, proudly holding up my violin.

"Now we can be a full band!" Ophelia screams in mirth, and I am worried now.

"Lia, are you drunk?"

"No," Ophelia's voice is more serious now. "This place is just amazing.

I nod my head in agreement.

"C'mon!" Ophelia drags me off to somewhere.

"Where?" I ask her, trying to free myself from her iron grip. "Where, Lia?"

We walk, well, I got dragged, to the very edge of Rivendell. What I saw blew my mind.

"It's beautiful," I breathe in.

A waterfall cascaded over the noon sun, creating double rainbows, mist, spraying our faces. Gentle waves were made at the bottom of the thirty foot waterfall, as if the scene was timeless, rocks were layered with moss, which would usually cause it to go ugly, but here, it felt natural.**

"Isn't it?" Ophelia asks. "On one note, I'm hungry now, so let's go back. Race you!"

Somehow, even with me being an elf, Ophelia beat me back.

"How do you do that?" I ask her. "I'm the elf!"

"Well," Shrugs Ophelia. "Maybe Valor gave you the body of an elf and gave me the properties of one!"

"That's so not fair," I grumble. "Where's lunch? I'm hungry, now."

"I remember from the Hobbit movie, elves here only had vegetables," Ophelia crashes my spirits.

"Joy," I sigh. I liked vegetables, just not all the time.

"Shouldn't I be the one complaining?" Ophelia says with a straight face. "I am the human after all."

"Shut up, Lia," I growl. "It's not fair."

"What's not fair?" She says innocently, batting her eyelashes.

"Forget it," I sigh. There is no winning an argument with her. "Where's lunch?"

* * *

Lunch was, actually, fairly good. The fruits were the ripest and juiciest, making my mouth water with saliva.

"This is way better than I expected," I told Ophelia.

She grinned cheekily and ate her salad. "I know, right. The dwarves in the Hobbit were wrong. This is _delicious_."

"How are you, Gimli?" I asked him, hoping he would answer in anything but a grunt.

"Elvish food," He spat. "Where is the meat? Chips?"

"C'mon, Gimli," Ophelia encourages. "Try an apple. It's fairly decent. Please?"

Ophelia gave him the Bambee eyes, and he immediately crumbled.

"Alright, alright," Gimli muttered. "I'm not liking this."

Aragorn looks at Gimli, his eyes full of laughter. Legolas looks shocked Ophelia could've made a _dwarf _eat healthy.

Gimli took a bite out of the crisp apple. "This…" Muttering.

"I couldn't hear you, Gimli, dear," Ophelia said sweetly. "What did you say?"

"I said," Gimli looks exasperated. "This ain't half bad."

"See!" Ophelia grins from ear to ear. "Healthy is _good _sometimes!"

"Whatever," Gimli grouched.

"Did you teach him that?" I whisper to Ophelia.

"Dwarves are smart and my voice is beautiful," Ophelia boasted. "It's completely natural."

I roll my eyes. "Totally."

Ophelia nodded back, enthusiastic. "See? You agree as well."

"I believe she was being sarcastic, Lia," Legolas tries to clear up.

"I know that," Ophelia is the one rolling her eyes, now. "I was being sarcastic _back_."***

* * *

Ophelia and I decided to do hard-core studying.

"I need to know what those petty elves are saying," Ophelia says, fed up. "I mean, they could be insulting us, for all we know!"

So we went to Lord Elrond and asked for a Sindarin dictionary.

"Please?" I begged. "What if those elves said something bad about us?"

That's how we ended up in the library, repeating Sindarin to each other, trying to learn the beautiful, yet difficult language.

"Oh," Ophelia's face flames up. "Oh."

"What?" I asked her. "What is it?"

"It says here," She indicates to a page on the book. "That _ada _means _father _in Elvish."****

"Oh, so _that's _why elves were giving me strange looks," I say, now knowing. "Well, whatever, you can still call me Adrianna."

Sindarin came easily to me, as it might've been in my genes. It was like doing something after you didn't do something for many years. Familiarity.

Lia had a bit more of a problem. She excelled in Khuzdul, though. After many weeks of begging, asking, doing favours to Gimli, he finally relented and let us know some curses, simple phrases and sentences we were never going to use like _Your head smells like cheese! _or _I went the Shire and picked flowers and sang to the birds!_

"How do you do it?" I moan. I couldn't get the words right, they just rolled off my tongue, in smooth waves, like Sindarin did.

"How do you do Sindarin so easily?" Ophelia asks me. "Let's swap talents."

"What?"

"I'll teach you sword fighting and Khuzdul and you'll teach me archery and Sindarin," Ophelia clarifies.

This was our daily routine for many weeks, until December 25th slowly approached, taunting us, as if it couldn't be avoided.

Boromir and Ophelia became friends after a while, exchanging stories and soon, they were inseparable.

I, myself, became 'friends' with Legolas, after a few false starts, emotionless masks and Sindarin insults, you could call us… acquaintances. We were not fully BFF's but we weren't complete strangers, so… I guess acquaintances.

I counted down the days until our departing day.

3…

2…

December 24th.

I was scared, wondering why I had signed up for this in the first place. Ophelia gives me a confident smile, as we pack into our magical backpacks. Gimli had given Ophelia her precious guitar, and Ophelia gave him a kiss on the cheek, causing him to grow redder then his beard.

"Lia, are you going to shove that guitar into your backpack?"

"Quite, frankly," Ophelia rebukes. "If Uggs and a god-damned sword can go in here, I cannot see why in the world not, a guitar can't go in here."

It actually fit. After pushing it in, it was like Hermione's magical bead-bag from Harry Potter.

"You putting in your violin?" Ophelia asks me.

"Well," I say, matter-of-factly. "If a guitar can go in that small backpack, I can't see why not."

"You ready?" I ask her, after fitting my violin into the backpack.

"Nope," Ophelia checks her shoes. "I've got to do something, first."

She runs inside her room and I am left wondering what she needed to do so desperately.

*This is possible. You_ can_ put violin strings on a guitar. It just sounds more muted. They sound good for jazz-like music.

**I love making descriptive scenes of natural environments. Was it good? Should I make more, where I can? I always want to make a reader like she/he is there in real life.

***Do you have that problem? When you are sarcastic to a sarcastic remark, people think you don't know sarcasm? But, in real life it's completely the opposite? I always have this problem with my friends.

****Am I right?

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's** **Note**

Yippee! Another chapter! I hope this is good.

Remember, reviews are loved!


	9. Chapter 8 - Ophelia

Chapter 8 – Ophelia

I run to my room and slam the door. I pant heavily, wondering if Adeline has suspected anything yet. I hoped not. Everything came back in a flash. Why… never mind, you would never believe me, and I needed _Adeline _to believe me first.

"I'm sorry, Ada," I mutter, quietly. "I'm so sorry for not telling you."

I dip my quill into ink, a parchment in front of me, taunting me, telling me I am too afraid to continue.

"What to write?" I muse. "What to _say_?"

A drop of black ink falls, and splatters onto the side of the parchment, looking like black, orc blood.

My hand grips the quill tighter, so tight, I have a feeling I am about to break it. I do.

"Shit," I murmur to myself, another quill zooming to my hand. "Adeline… please do not hate me."

I really hope she doesn't. Because by the time she will read this letter, I will most likely be dead.

* * *

I slip on my uggs, dropping the letter into a pouch of the backpack, my face much more solemn then before. "I'm ready."

"Good," Adeline says, cheerfully. "We're leaving tomorrow, BTW, so you don't have to look all pretty and stuff."

"Shouldn't _I _be the one, saying this to _you_?" I take a weak attempt at a laugh. I am still nauseous, because of before. Luckily, Adeline doesn't notice.

Hours tick by, slowly, tantalizingly, and Adeline and I try to savour the remaining hours.

"Truth or dare?" Adeline asks me, her lip curled into a deadly smile. That is never good. The _last _time we played truth or dare with that smile… we don't need details, do we?

"Truth," I answer carefully.

"Who do you think is the cutest guy in the Fellowship?" Adeline blurts out.

I gap, for a second, and try to regain my cool. I inspect a tree, planted on the very edge of Rivendell, and start climbing it.

"Don't leave me hanging, Lia!" Complains Adeline. She starts climbing as well. "How do you do this… so _easily_?"

"I'm naturally brilliant," Lie.

"So…?" Adeline peppers me with the original question. This is hard. So I use logic.

"Well, Aragorn is taken," I list. "The Hobbits are… not my height, Gandalf I, like, one million years old, you would kill me if I said Legolas…"

"What?" Adeline looks indignant, but there is a faint rosy blush. "I would _not_."

"Mhmm," I say, totally believing her. "Truth or dare?"

"You never answered my truth!"

"Who's left?" I sigh, irritated. "Boromir."

Adeline has a Cheshire grin on. "That's the only reason, hmm? Haven't you gone all BFF with him?"

"_Truth_," I say more forcefully. "Or _dare_?"

"Dare."

"What do you have on your mind, _truthfully_?" I ask her.

Adeline's grin slowly falls, she, now looking, crestfallen. "Home." She quietly adds; "Do you ever think we'll get back?"

I choose my next words wisely and truthfully. "Home is where the heart is, Ada. Never forget that."

* * *

The next day, we get up early, to start a wonderful adventure. I pull on my uggs, the momentum pushing me back and slid on my cloak. I was wearing woollen pants and a long, blue shirt, to bring out my eyes.

"What's up?" Adeline asks, strapping her boots on.

"The sky," I smart-alec back, just like she did, so long ago. "C'mon, the Fellowship is probably already up and ready to go."

I was right. The Hobbits were there, Frodo looking troubled. Boromir, arrogant, Legolas, expressionless and Aragorn… had that spark with Arwen in his eyes.

"Hello," Adeline said, her face straight. "When are we departing?"

"Now," Gandalf said, with an all knowing expression. He turn to Lord Elrond.

"The Ring-Bearer is setting out on a quest to Mount Doom," Elrond said in his, _Mwa, ha, ha listen to me and everything will go right _voice. "For those you travel with him, no oath, nor bond is laid to go further than you need. Farewell, and may the blessings of the Elves, Men or Free folk go with you.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-Bearer," Gandalf said, in his low voice.

Frodo takes steps out of Rivendell and whispers softly says, "Mordor, Gandalf. Is it left or right?"

"Left," Gandalf says.

Our real adventure begins! Yippee. Insert sarcasm.

* * *

We did nothing but walk, walk and walk for the next few hours, so I don't want to bore you readers, so let's skip ahead!

Trust me, I love the occasional walk, jog, run, hike, whatever you prefer, but this was _crazy_. We didn't stop until about 1400 hours*, until the Hobbits complaining could not be taken any longer.

"Gandalf!" I begged. "Just call a freaking _stop_! Anything to stop the Hobbits!"

The stupid Hobbits got back up as soon as they had their food and began to train.

"Boromir!" Pippen and Merry called to him. "Please, please, please train us!"

Gandalf was discussing his plans, Gimli complaining about not going through Moria and Legolas just stood on a rock, on guard.

"Does he do anything, _but _that?" Adeline grumbled. "All he does is stand guard, even when he's sitting."

"Oh, ha, ha," I murmur sarcastically. "So you were staring at him?"

"Shut up," Adeline gets up and watches the Hobbits along with Aragorn.

"Move your feet," Aragorn calls and Boromir switches to duel with Merry.

"One, two, three, four," Boromir calls out. He switches once again to Pippen.

Boromir accidently slashed Pippen with his sword, causing him to go frantic and saying, "Sorry, sorry –"

"Get him!" Screams Pippen, and kicks him in the shins. "For the Shire!"

Merry stabs him with the flat of his sword and Boromir tumbles down, laughing. Aragorn chuckles and is about to leave, but Adeline and I just lead him back.

"You," I stab him in the chest. "Are the most mature of all of us. Go break them up!"

Aragorn chuckles and walks to them. "Settle down! That's enough!"

He tried to pick them up, by the scruffs of their necks but Pippen and Merry pulled his legs out in front of him.

"Stop it!" Aragorn tries to say, without success.

"What is that?" Sam asks, suddenly, destroying the good mood.

"Nothing," Gimli squints into the sky. "Just a wisp of cloud."

"It's moving fast," Boromir breathes heavily, because of before, he adds; "And against the wind."

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas shouts. "Hide!"

We scramble up, one of the Hobbits extinguishing the fire and collecting all we had left outside.

"Hurry!" I squeak. "Into the bushes, rocks!"

I slide, baseball style into the bushes, knocking Boromir slightly. "Sorry!"

He nods at me and keeps an eye outside. Small, crow-like creatures screech and squeak above us and I growl softly, "Spies of Saruman!"

Boromir looks at me, questioningly and I just shrug. _Library, _I mouth.

He nods, satisfied.

As they move, we get out, quickly and Gandalf distastefully says, "The passage south is being watched."

Gandalf looks over to a gigantic mountain, covered with snow. "We must take the passage of Caradhras!"

"Wonderful," Adeline mutters. "Bloody _wonderful_."

* * *

"Wonderful!" Adeline says, cheerfully. "Wonderfully wonderful!

As soon as I said elves could walk on snow, Adeline has been happy since. "Shut up, Ada, not all of us have immunity to snow!"

Frodo stumbles and rolls into Aragorn, propping him up. "Careful."

Frodo shakes his head out with snow and clutches his neck for something. He searches frantically for the ring, but a little further up ahead, it had slipped off his neck and was glinting in the snow.

Boromir picked it up and everyone turned to stare at him. In Boromir's eyes, there was a glint of wanting.

"Boromir," Aragorn says in a warning tone.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much pain and doubt…" Trails Boromir. He looked like he was in a trance. "For such a small little thing… such a small thing."

He reached to the ring and –

"Boromir!" Aragorn said, more forcefully. "Give the ring to Frodo."

Boromir takes slow steps to Frodo and once the ring is an arm's lengths away, Frodo snatches it from him.

"As you wish," Boromir says, ruffling Frodo's hair. "I care not."

I see Aragorn's hand on his sword loosen.

* * *

As soon as we get to higher altitudes, a snow storm breezes in, causing me to warm myself with my own ways. Still, it is freezing, and the snow was up to my thighs.

"H-ho-ow mu-uch lo-on-nge-rr?" I chatter my teeth. I see Adeline give me a look of pity as she walks pasts me, on top of the stupid snow. "Puh-puh-lease do-on't le-et u-us wa-al-kk an-yy mo-ore."

I tread through the snow, and imagine, if you are in pool of maple syrup, just 20 times colder and imagine heavy, pelting snow on you as you do that. Not fun.

"A fell voice is in the air," Legolas announces, looking behind us.

"It's SARUMAN!" Gandalf roars and a cracking sound is heard above.

A few snow rocks fall down, causing loud noises and I wince as the snow rocks miss me by inches.

"Are you okay?" Boromir asks me, turning on the heavy snow.

"Just great," I chatter to him.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn (Mr. Obvious of Middle Earth) bellows back at Gandalf. "Gandalf! We must turn back!"

"No!" Gandalf persists. He chanted in a foreign language but all that did was falter the snow falling.

A lightning bold struck true, bringing down more snow.

"Avalanche!" Adeline shrieks and I duck my head, press against the wall and protect myself as good as I can.

Heavy things fall on me, causing the oxygen to grow less and less. I try to breathe in more air but all I get is myself wheezing. I dig up, but suddenly, a hand grabs me and pulls me up.

"Lia!" I am squished by Adeline.

"Let go of me!" I chock. "Going to die… twice!"

"We must get off the mountain!" Boromir says urgently. "Make for the gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

"The gap of Rohan takes us to close to Isengard!" Thank Aulë, for Aragorn! I really didn't want to be near Isengard.

"We cannot pass through the mountain! We must go under it! Let us go through the Mine of Moria!" Gimli argues.

"Let the Ring-Bearer decide," Gandalf, way to go. Put even _more _pressure on Frodo.

Frodo looks fearful, but he says, "We will go through the Mines of Moria."

Gandalf has a grim expression on his face. "So be it."

*Should I just write 2:00 PM?

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Umm, I hope that was good. The next chapter is going to be in Adeline's point of view and in the Mines of Moria! Yippee!

Also, thank you to _Kyouki no kitsune _for favourite-ing my story! It means much to me.

Thank you to all the readers who have read the story this far and did not abandon it. Tosses virtual cookies J

_BlueDaylighter_


	10. Chapter 9 - Adeline

Chapter 9 – Adeline 

Ophelia has been acting odd lately. She has been more jumpy and has avoided me for a bit of time now. Every time I spoke to her, she would give this sorrowful look as if she had been at my funeral.

We walk to the Mines of Moria and I realize I am one clumsy Elf. Even the _Hobbits _weren't tripping, while I was.

"Shiz!" I curse, trying to regain my balance. I flail, until an arm grabs me.

"Steady," Legolas warns me and continues on his joyful way.

"Whatever," I grumble, falling back to Ophelia and Boromir. "What's up?"

Boromir looks befuddled. "The sky, Lady Ada."

Ophelia and I roll our eyes in unison. "Let it go, Ada, men are clueless."

"Yes… Yes – wait!" Boromir says in a daze before snapping out. "No we are not!"

Ophelia grins at me. "See? He agrees with me."

"_L'amour_,"* I say, smirking.

"I would shut up," Ophelia says, in a low voice, but her eyes are flitting around the edges, and I instantly know she is embarrassed.

"Help an old man, Frodo," Gandalf rests an arm on Frodo's shoulder.

"Old man, my _cul_,"** Ophelia says, highly irritated. "As if. That man is far more capable then any of us."

I cock my head as Gandalf says something quietly to Frodo. "– your shoulder? The ring?"

Frodo made a grimace and stared up at Gandalf.

"You feel its power, don't you?" Gandalf says, but his question is more like a statement. "I felt it too. You must be careful now."

And some other stuff I didn't bother to look into. Walking… walking…

"Gosh," Groans Ophelia. "This adventure would go _so _much faster if _cars_ were invented in this time."

"It might even be over," I agree with her. "Walking… walking… walking…"

"The walls," Gimli gasps. "Of Moria."

"Wow, this is… impressive?" I say, unsure. What I see before me is a vast, grey cliff, towering above me, making me feel _extremely _small. "This is… _tall_."

"Tis so," Legolas says dryly, inspecting it. "It is tall."

"Dwarf walls are invisible when closed," Gimli says proudly, pounding his axe against the wall.

"Yes, Gimli, their masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten," Gandalf says, haughtily.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas murmurs.

Gimli scowls, then focuses his attention back on the wall.

Gandalf approached the treacherous looking cliff, and trails his hand over the surface of the mountain. "Now, let's see… Ithildan... it mirrors only starlight… and moonlight."

"It reads _The Door or Durin – Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter_," Ophelia reads, as Gandalf opens his mouth to speak. Ophelia is flustered for a moment as if she wasn't supposed to do something. "What? Library."

"What do you suppose that means?" Pippen says, innocently wondering.

"It is quite simple. If you are a friend, and speak the password, the doors will open," Gandalf says, smartly. "_Annon Edhellen, edro hi amen_!"***

…?

"_Fennas Nogothrim, lasto beth lammen_!"****

…?

"Nothing's happening," Pippen says, and Gandalf looks now annoyed. He tries to push open the doors.

"I once knew every spell in all tongues of Elves… Men… and Orcs," Muttered Gandalf angrily.

"What are you going to do, then?" Pippen asks simply.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words!" Explodes Gandalf.

Ophelia and I plop down, sitting near the river's edge.

"Do you miss home?" I sigh to Ophelia.

She gives a funny look to me and answers slowly, "This might sound crazy to you, but no, not really. I feel much more… at _peace_, you could say. It's a nice feeling."

I take a deep breath and realize she is right. It _is _much more peaceful hear and feel like I actually belong here. "It is lovely… Not here, though. Not in these times."

I saw Frodo thinking deeply, and I saw Ophelia hand him something dark. Chocolate! Chocolate solves everything.

"Have this, Frodo," Ophelia smiles at him. "It'll make the pain go away."

"But I don –"

"Don't question the power of this," Ophelia orders sternly and I burst into fits of giggles. "It _works_."

Frodo looks at the Hershey's Kiss skeptically before swallowing it and I see him sucking it.

"This is fantastic Miss Lia," Frodo asks solemnly.

I look over at Aragorn, he, unhitching Bill's (our _pony_, mind you) bridle.

"The Mines no place for a pony, even one so brave as Bill," I heard Aragorn say to Sam.

"Bye-bye, Bill," Sam said softly.

"Go on, Bill, go on," Aragorn encourages the pony. "Don't worry, Sam. He knows the way home."

I watch Bill clip-clop into the night. "Thank you, Bill."

I hear Merry and Pippen throwing stones into the water.

_Plop_…_ plop_...

"Don't," I hear Aragorn warn. My, my, aren't we limited to things we can do?

"It's a riddle," Frodo mutters, at first, then grows confident. "Speak 'friend' and enter. What is the Elvish word for friend?"

"Mellon…" I said. "It's mellon."

The stone doors slowly opened, making a low, rumbling noise, as the edge of the stone scratches against the floor.

"Soon, Master Elf, you shall enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves!" Gimli bragged. "Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin."

Gandalf taps his staff and it makes a sound as it glows a bit.

Gimli was finishing his previous though. "And they call this a mine! A mine!"

I look around cautiously. I could sense something I didn't like.

"This is no mine!" Boromir exclaimed. "It's a tomb!"

Gandalf's staff emitted light, showing corpses and skulls.

"Oh, no!" Gimli cries. "No, no-o-o!"

Legolas pulled an arrow from a dead corpse's body. He threw it away in disgust.

"Goblins!" Boromir, Aragorn and Ophelia drew their swords, and Legolas and I pulled off our bows, setting our sheaths in place.

"We make for the gap of Rohan," Boromir stated, his voice hinted with fear. "We should have never come here! Now, get out, get out!"

The Hobbits turn swiftly on their feet, only to discover Frodo was being dragged towards the doors, pulled off his feet.

"Frodo!" Merry, Pippen and Sam cried.

"Strider! Help him!" Sam shouted.

"Help!" Frodo gasps. "Help!"

"Aragorn!" I screamed. Sorry, I was too freaked out to help.

"Strider!" Frodo shrieked. "Lia!"

Ophelia threw a dagger, slashing a tentacle. The monster feigned disappearance but rose quickly, more tentacle's rising out of the murky waters.

Legolas and I took shot at the monster, hitting a tentacle, and, me, being lucky, hit an eye.

"Good!" Legolas called to me. "Do that more!"

_That was pure luck! _I want to scream, but I stay silent, and fire more arrows.

"Into the Mines!" Gandalf roared. "Now!"

"Into the caves!" Aragorn repeated. "Hurry! Legolas!"

"Run!" Ophelia screamed, and we slammed the doors shut, as the last person came in, darkness swallowing us.

"We now have but one choice," Gandalf proclaimed, gravely, as he knocked his staff on the ground to light up a small area. "We must face the, long dark road of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler tings than Orcs, in the deep places of the world."

Thanks, Gandalf. Thanks.

* * *

More walking. Why don't we re-name this Fellowship into the Fellowship of the Walking? I swear, that's all we do. So, apologies for the boringness of this part… and every other part that involves walking.

"Quietly now," Gandalf tells us. "It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope our presence go unnoticed."

"You just jinxed it, Dumbledore," Ophelia said, in her best Ronal Weasley impression. I chuckle.

"The wealth of Moria did not come from jewels… or gold," Gandalf continued his little speech. His hand trailed the wall, touching a silvery vein. "But in Mithril."

"What is Mithril?" Sam asked, curious.

"It's a silvery metal, very light in weight, but as tough as dragon scales," I quote, remembering reading something like that in a book with Ophelia.

"Correct, Miss Ada," Gandalf smiles at me, his blue eye twinkling. He looked _a lot _like Dumbledore at that point.

"Bilbo had a shirt of Mithril rings that Thorin gave him," Gandalf said.

"Oh!" Gimli said in awe. "_That _is a kingly gift!"

"Yes," Agreed Gandalf. "I never told him this, but its worth was greater than the Shire!"

Frodo looked quite shocked, and I noticed that.

As we marched on (trying to avoid the word walk…) three paths loomed over us, and Gandalf whispered; "I have no memory of this place."

I bite my lip and sit down on a fairly smooth rock. "Great. Just great."

I sit quietly, Ophelia sitting next to me, all of the other members of the Fellowship of the Walking, looking glum.

"Who wants some music?" Ophelia finally announced. "This silence is irritating."

"Do you have an instrument?" Merry asks her. "Or are you just going to sing?"

Ophelia motions to me, and says to the rest of them; "Wait here. We won't be long."

We go a bit back, carrying our backpacks, and I dump my backpack down. "Violin, right?"

"Yup," Ophelia says, pulling out her guitar. "This is going to be a pain in the ass to put back in."

We walk back to the FOTW (Fellowship of the Walking), them looking dumbfounded.

"How did you – you –?" Boromir stutters and the rest of the FOTW are speechless.

"We're magical," I say, waving a hand. "It's a secret."

Ophelia sits down and I stand, her strumming her guitar.

"Bit muted… but it'll do," Ophelia mutters and tries out a few chords. I tune my violin as best as I can as and I hear Ophelia strumming a G… D? I think I know the song.

"_If I die young, bury me in satin_

_Lay me down on a bed of roses_

_Sink me in the river at dawn_

_Send me away with the words of a love song_

_Uh oh, uh oh_

_Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother_

_She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh,_

_And life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no_

_Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby_

_The sharp knife of a short life, oh well_

_I've had just enough time_

_If I die young, bury me in satin_

_Lay me down on a bed of roses_

_Sink me in the river at dawn_

_Send me away with the words of a love song_

_The sharp knife of a short life, oh well_

_I've had just enough time_

_And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom_

_I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,_

_I've never known the lovin' of a man_

_But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand,_

_There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever,_

_Who would have thought forever could be severed by..._

_...the sharp knife of a short life, oh well?_

_I've had just enough time_

_So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls_

_What I never did is done_

_A penny for my thoughts, oh, no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar_

_They're worth so much more after I'm a goner_

_And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'_

_Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'_

_If I die young, bury me in satin_

_Lay me down on a bed of roses_

_Sink me in the river at dawn_

_Send me away with the words of a love song_

_Uh oh (uh, oh)_

_The ballad of a dove (oh, uh)_

_Go with peace and love_

_Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket_

_Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh_

_The sharp knife of a short life, oh well_

_I've had just enough time_

_So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls…_"***** Sings, Ophelia and she stops, her voice cracking at the very last word.

There is a smattering applause for me and Ophelia and I bow, Ophelia grinning. "I love that song."

"Oh!" Gandalf says, suddenly. "It's that way!"

"He's remembered!" Pippen says joyfully.

"No, but the air does not seem as foul down here," Gandalf reprimand him. "When in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

Ophelia snickers quietly, just loud enough for me to hear. Soon enough, we were in a less claustrophobic area. "Thank god…"

"Let me risk a little more light…" Gandalf sort of asked us. His staff lighting up, like a _lumos _spell from Harry Potter. "Behold! The great realm and Dwarf city; Dwarrowdelf!"

Nice name…?

But it was a great hall, illuminated by Gandalf's silver light, revealing what has not been seen by light for many years.

"Now there's an eye-opener and no mistake," Sam says, his voice filled with awe and shock.

We trail through the room, and one room is lighted with a single ray of sunshine, resting on a rectangular prism… thing.

"Haugh!" Gimli cried and ran to the box.

"Gimli!" Gandalf warned. But Gimli either ignored him or didn't hear, as he ran to the middle of the room, and read the inscription, falling to his knees and sobbing.

"'Here is Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria'," Gandalf read. "He is dead then. It is as I feared. _Kilmin malur ni zaram kalil ra narag. Kheled-zarum… Balin tazlifi_."

"We must move on!" Legolas urged to Aragorn. "We must not linger!"

"They have taken the bridge, and the second hall," Reads Gandalf. Gimli stops crying and looks at Gandalf, his face questioning. "We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums… drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out… They are coming…"

_Clang, clang, boom, crash!_

Pippen looks very guilty. We all mentally groan. Why?

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf said angrily. Throw yourself in next time and rid yourself of your stupidity!"

Ophelia winces. That _was _harsh. I mean, go easy on him Gan –

_Boom. _

_Boom, boom._

_Boom._

_Boom, boom, boom._

_Boom, boom, boom, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!_

I am scared. "What…?"

"Shh," Ophelia shushes me. "Oh, shit, no. This is _not _happening!"

"Frodo!" Sam cried.

"Get back!" Legolas shouted to everyone. Get back we did.

Aragorn looked at the Hobbits. "Get back! Stay close to Gandalf!"

"They have a cave troll!" Boromir says, his voice laced with fear.

Disgusting creatures try to break down the door, their hands, clawing at the wood, splintering it. Legolas and I shoot the creatures, me missing a few precious times.

"Shit!" I curse, missing two times in a row. "What kind of Elf am I?"

The door breaks open, sending Orcs, Goblins and Trolls flying in, trying to kill us. I shoot… shoot… and hear loud, deafening footsteps and my heart sank. The cave troll.

"I – think I'm getting the hang of this!" Sam pants, hitting any Orcs near him with a skillet. "Woo!"

"Frodo!" Aragorn yells, trying to fight his way over to him. "Frodo! Hang on!"

"Aragorn?" Frodo yells back, panicked, as a Troll grabs by the leg, swinging him up. "Aragorn!"

"Frodo!" I scream. How many times do I have to scream that damn Hobbit's name?

The troll prepares to swing, and Aragorn leaps out, roaring, "YAHHHH!"

I see a sword and pick it, no matter how disgusting it is, I continue to fight (poorly, mind you) with the damned weapon, trying to race over to Frodo.

Aragorn stabs the Troll with a spear, not impaling him fully, just enough to hold him off, as Merry and Pippen were throwing rocks at him.

The Troll, madly swinging, hit Aragorn, sending him flying, Aragorn crumpling.

"Aragorn!" Shrieked Ophelia. Aragorn did not move, Frodo rushing over to him.

"Frodo!" I scream. Once _again_. "Watch out!"

The damned Troll hasn't died yet, as I try to pick up anything sharp and throw it at him.

The Troll aims for Frodo, aims again and –

"NO!" Ophelia yells. The Troll has hit him.

Merry and Pippen must have felt an adrenaline rush, as they leapt on the Troll's neck, stabbing him with their swords. The FOTW all fight with renowned strength, fury fueling us.

Merry and Pippen continue to stab the Troll as he screams in pain, equal to Frodo's. Gimli aims his axe at him, but the Troll deflects it, and throws Merry.

Legolas and I both take aim and we finally bring down the dreaded creature, my arrow in his neck and Legolas' on the top of his head.

We all rush over to Frodo, trying not to fear the worst. "Frodo, please tell me you're alright."

"I'm – I'm fine," He gasps. "Totally... alright."

Frodo unbuttoned his shirt and a glimmering shirt underneath it was shown.

"Mithril," Gimli breathes. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."

I smile but my smile fades as there are more Orc/Troll/Goblin noises.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!" Gandalf whispers and we run deeper into the Mines.

*Love. In French.

**Ass. In French.

***Gate of the Elves, open now for me!

****Doorway of the Dwarf-folk, listen to the word of my tongue!

*****The Band Perry is one of my favourite bands J. And my favourite country band, basically. I also like Train. J Also, don't you think _Better Dig Two_ by The Band Perry describes Arwen's feelings for Aragorn _perfectly_? Check it out!

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Thank you so much to _FreeSpiritSeeker _for following this story! Thank you, thank you, and thank you! Have a virtual cupcake. J :D

Thank you to _GaaraxFangirl3_ for following _and _favourite-ing this story! Have a virtual cake. J :O!

Also, when I had started this Fan-fiction, I had no idea of a plotline, I just had to get this story out. I quickly did, and now, with a plotline set in mind, I would like to change the title to _Home is Where the Heart is_. Would that be fine with you? The summary will change as well, just a bit, but I have a plan now. _An Arrow Notched _was just an experiment. I never predicted that some people would favourite, follow or review. So, thank you so much for that. It truly warms the heart. So, I think I will keep the story as _An Arrow Notched _for about… three, four days? Till I change it.

Remember, reviews, favourite, follows are loved!

Thank you for all the support,

_BlueDaylighter_


	11. Chapter 10 - Ophelia

Chapter 10 – Ophelia

I try to avoid Adeline. I feign more expressions, trying to make sure she is not on my tail. Trying to make sure I am always one step ahead of her. More than necessary is possible. I run, with more stealth and stamina than I should.

We run through the cavernous Mine, Trolls/Goblins/Orcs chasing us, like a hornets. Many crept out from the ceiling, attacking like ants.

"Keep running!" I encourage the Hobbits and Adeline.

Torclins (Trolls, Goblins, Orcs, honestly, I'm getting tired of saying that) scale down the columns, and we soon find ourselves surrounded, me gripping my sword and some daggers I found on the floor.

Adeline has her bow out, but her arrows are few in number, about five, and they look scavenged.

There is a horrible screeching, that makes all of the Torclins scramble back, hastily, screaming themselves, back up the columns.

"What is this devilry?" Boromir asks in a hushed voice. Something bright orange is glowing in the distance, making everyone nervous and jumpy. A low rumbling noise is heard, as if a dragon has awoken.

"A Balrog," Gandalf said staidly. "A demon from the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!"

Run we did, as I knew of this creature. Glorfindel himself killed one, but killed himself in the process.

We run through the columns the _opposite _way from which we came from and we run to a small doorway, hidden in the wall. I sprint, stretching my legs, trying to make the best out of the little time we have. I fear what will happen, and I say will because _nothing _goes our way. I am not trying to be pessimistic, just realistic.

"C'mon, Pippen," I tell him, he trying to run, with his short legs.

We rush into the pathway, me right behind Boromir. Stairs are a nuisance as we run down them, crab-style and Boromir halts, as he stumbles, where the stairs end mysteriously.

He let's go of his torch, tumbling, twirling… him, ready to fall as well – "Boromir!"

I run and pull him back, us both staggering because of the momentum of the pull.

"Thank you Miss Lia," Boromir says, his eyes full of gratitude.

A little way back, I hear Aragorn and Gandalf conversing, their conversation going something like this in my head.

Gandalf: So tired! But cannot… show… weakness!

Aragorn: Whoa, old man, settle down. Gandalf, rest yourself.

Gandalf: Ho ho ho, merry Christmas, but alas, no! You must leave me!

Aragorn: No-o-o! What if we lose our way?

Gandalf (looks incredulous): _That's _the only reason you don't want to leave me?

Aragorn (looks sheepish): No… yes… maybe?

Okay, maybe that didn't happen, but still. My mind often makes weird situations out of dangerous ones. Suddenly, Aragorn nods and we hurry down more stairs, this time right, left, straight… right? The direction, I mean.

I see a bridge in the clearing, looking very musty and old. I remember there are no handrails, and there is no room for mistake.

"Handrails, much?" Adeline howls. Just what I was thinking.

"No need for them, lass!" Gimli shouts back. "Dwarves do not fear falling."

"Yeah, sure!" Adeline squabbles with Gimli. "Let some pride _go_!"

We soon come upon a piece of the stairway missing, and Legolas immediately jumps over the small gap. I jump, as well, Legolas offering me a hand, and I politely refuse it.

"I can manage," I grin at him. "I'm awesome enough."

He rolls his eyes and half-catches Gandalf. That man is _graceful_. Well, for an old man, at least.

Sam comes next and Legolas catches him. Arrows pour down on us.

"Shit!" I swear under my breath. Can't _anything _go our way? "Legolas! Shoot them! I'll catch!"

Legolas nods and shoots off Torclins, while I half-catch Boromir as he walks away, carrying Merry and Pippen.

Aragorn is about to toss Gimli but he raises a hand and shouts defiantly, "Nobody tosses a Dwarf!"

Gimli barely makes it, his feet scraping the end of the stairs, and I have to grab his beard to stop him from falling.

"Not the beard, lass!" Gimli shouts, infuriated. "Not the beard!"

"I'm trying to save you, you –" I bite my lip and just pull him up. "Let some pride go, Master Dwarf."

Gimli nods, a tiny one, but a nod, nonetheless. Aragorn tosses Adeline over, making her crash into Legolas. Adeline is red-faced as I smirk and she quickly excuses herself. Rocks crack and crumble sending debris all over, making me choke on the foul air.

The gap is no longer small, but huge, impossible to jump over. Only Frodo and Aragorn are left on the other side of the damned stairs.

"Oh crap," I hear Adeline. "Why us?"

I look over and everything is falling into ruins. Everything. The structure of the buildings were old, so they crumbled into dust and ash. A falling ceiling piece crashes into the set of stairs Aragorn and Frodo was on, causing the stairway to be balanced eerily.

"Please…" I send a silent prayer to any gods that could help us. "Please, please, please."

The Fellowship have shocked fear on their faces, trying to comprehend there is only one chance.

The desolated staircase wavers back and forth, Aragorn and Frodo trying to lean forward. Good. The momentum of the forward…ness pushes the staircase near us and Frodo and Aragorn are safely in our hands.

"Thank god, Frodo," I whisper softly into his hair. "Never be the last. Again."

Frodo nods, his face deathly white and we rush down more stairs. Argh-h-h. Will this ever end? As we run, the mucky stairs drop, crackling and into the deep abyss below.

We make it to the bottom, Gandalf shouting, "Over the bridge!"

Will do, sir. I know I should play heroine (or hero, but I'm a girl, so…) but really, I'm afraid to die. Not yet, anyways.

Fire is leaping, creating soaring temperatures, scorching the temple, licking anything flammable greedily.

Then, the Balrog jumps out. Hell! Why can't you stay there? It looks sort-of like the Minotaur from Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, but about twenty times taller and two horns, casing his head like a helmet. Oh, and replace the Minotaur's eyes with fiery balls of fire and a fire whip. Get the picture? Good. Oh, oh, and can breathe fire. Through its _nose_.

It roars, sending my hair flying. I crinkle my nose. Toothpaste, much? We race to the bridge, very narrow, and carefully balance-run to the other side, with the Balrog storming after us.

We all make it, except for Gandalf, who is half-way through the bridge.

"You cannot pass!" Roars Gandalf, his hair bedraggled, his face full of sweat.

"Gand-ALF!" Frodo screams at him. Gandalf means a lot to poor Frodo.

The Balrog swings its wings (great, now it has freaking _wings_. What next, barfs lava?), at Gandalf, angrily. He flexes his shoulders (yeah… um, there aren't any female Balrogs to watch you… so you can stop the 'hot-guy' act…) and from his waist up, he bursts into complete flames, the flames dying off a little later.

"I'm am the servant of the Secret-Fire, wielder of the Flam of Anor…" Gandalf pauses for suspense. He lifts his staff, a white glow appearing, circling him in, as a shield. "The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udûn!"

The Balrog lifted with sword (where the hell did he get that?) and struck it against Gandalf's epic shield. Gandalf repels it, but the shield is broken. We all take a subconscious step forward, worry etched upon our faces. Frodo looks the most distraught.

"Go back to the shadows!" Gandalf says, clenching his teeth. The Balrog does not look pleased. He flares his nostrils, and crackles a whip, a three-ended one, near Gandalf. It makes a horrible _snap!_ as it sails through the air.

The Balrog tries to find an open door, lashing its whip, but it is too late.

"YOU… SHALL NOT… PASS!" Gandalf bellows and clutches his staff and sword together, heaving them downwards, creating a soft light, pushing the dust back.

The Balrog leaps forward, bad mistake. The narrow bridge groans under his weight, and it causes it to break, the Balrog flying back, its whip still visible, falls down… down… down… I smile, _finally_, something has gone our way! Gandalf heavily rests on his staff, looking very weary. As he turns around, the whip lashes one more time… it wrapping its way around Gandalf's ankle.

"No!" Adeline screams, as Gandalf is thrown to his feet, his sword and staff, flying out of grasp. Gandalf now holds onto the ledge with his very finger tips, which causes me to impulsively rush forward, to try and help him.

"No!" Boromir yells. "No!"

I am restrained by him, as Frodo is restrained by Aragorn and so is Adeline and Legolas.

"Ganda-a-a-a-lf!" Frodo hollers.

I see Gandalf, full of effort, trying to grasp something – anything – before he falls in. We can only watch in silence as Gandalf struggles.

"Let – me – go!" I hear Adeline struggle in Legolas' grasp.

Gandalf looks into my eyes, and says to the rest of the Fellowship; "Fly, you fools."

He let's go and falls into the chaos below. He let go. He let _go_.

"NO-O-O-O-O-O!" Frodo wails, as Gandalf is lost from sight.

Aragorn clutches Frodo as he makes his way up the flight of stairs. "Boromir! Legolas! Gimli!"

Why don't you call us? But my brain is numb and I feel strong arms circle around me – Boromir? – and lift my feet off the ground.

The Men (Elves, Dwarves, yadda, yadda) go up the stairs, avoiding arrows that are begin shot at us from the Torclins. I close my eyes, thinking this _must _be a dream. Gandalf cannot die. He is _immortal_… well as close as you can get. No, he is not dead. I will hear his prideful remarks, when I open my eyes. I will see the familiar twinkle or mischief in his eyes, when I open mine. I will hear his smart answers – answers to everything – when I open my eyes.

"Shh," I hear Boromir. "Cease your crying, Miss Lia. I hate it when you show pain."

I did not even realize I was crying. I whimper and choke on my tears, trying to stop the overflow of the flood. Sunlight hits my eyes, making me see red.

"Set me down, Boromir," I order him. "I can walk."

He nods, reluctantly and heads to Gimli, trying to enter the Mines of Moria, a suicide mission, even _I _know that. I hear wails, Merry and Pippen, I suppose, and I know I have to be strong. Not only for them, but for me. I will _not _let my persona crumble, another weak wall torn down. I will not allow it. _Jamais_.*

"Legolas, get them up," Aragorn tells him sternly. Legolas has a look of shock on his face.

"Give them a moment for pity's sake!" Boromir pleads, his eyes shiny as well.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarmed with Orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, Lia, get them up," Aragorn says, not cruelly. He pulls Sam up. "On your feet. Frodo? Frodo!"

Frodo is off in the distance. He is walking, as if he is possessed. He turns and there is no mistaking the pain in his eyes, as tears well up.

*Never. In French.

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Okay, on the first note, my fan-fiction won't let me post any documents any copy 'n' paste docs… so, well, I'll have to upload files. This is tremendously horrible, 'cause I suck dirt at these kind of things, but will _your _fan-fic let you copy 'n' paste? I mean, I _can_ write in it, just there's no italics, bolds, spacings… So, please, tell me if this is just my account or if everyone is having this problem! Please! And, if this comes out… weird, blame me and my horrible technology knowledge. Thanks, so much! And on to…

NO-O-O-O! Gandalf died! Or did he? I almost cried, seriously, when I was writing the part about Frodo. There are seriously tears in my eyes… well, what a way to end the chapter. Next chapter, Adeline's point of view and they will be in Lothlórien. Yay-y-y, which means Galadriel, and her freaky telepathic powers. Oh-h-h-h. {Waves hand in a jazz hand motion}

Thank you to _FreeSpiritSeeker _for reviewing! Cupcakes are awesome! Have a baker's dozen of cupcakes! Thank you!

Also, thank you to _LadyThunderstorm_ for following this story! Have, um, some virtual… cookie dough? Who doesn't like good old cookie dough? Or maybe, um, ice cream? Well, thanks anyways!

Thank you all so much,

_BlueDaylighter_


	12. Chapter 11 - Adeline

Chapter 11 – Adeline

Gandalf… is dead? No, those words do not belong in the same sentence. But here I am, running, the words flashing in my mind.

_Gandalf… death? _

That simply does not add up, Gandalf is _immortal_. My mind races and I trip over a rock, me cursing as I extend an arm and try to steady myself.

"Gandalf cannot be dead!" I say, frustrated. "No… no he isn't."

Legolas looks at me sadly, almost pityingly, and I _hate _pity. "I'm afraid he is, my friend."

"I don't need pity," I growl and I try to focus on the ground, trying not to trip. The valley is beautiful, but everything in my sight is grey. There are black, moss covered rocks, and the earth is barren, a nice picture an artist would like to paint. Aragorn is paces ahead of us, looking out.

"He…" I do not dare say more. I cannot let anyone know I am from a different dimension.

Gandalf was a link to our Earth. Plain Earth. I… I don't know what to say. I run up to Aragorn, who stopped abruptly.

"Why'd you stop?" I ask, okay, a bit frostily. But, to be honest, his lack of emotion after Gandalf's death was unnerving.

Aragorn has a mild look on his face, as if totally saw my frosty voice coming. He points in the direction we are standing at. Oh.

It is a green, thriving forest, under clouds of grey. Grey… Gandalf's robe was grey. Off topic.

"Lia!" I call to her. She is about ten metres behind me, her eyes dead, but full of determination. Hmm… I wonder what she's thinking about.

"Yes?"

"Come look, Lia," I say, promptly. "That's where we're going."

"Oh… yes, beautiful," Her response is half-hearted, and I know she is still mourning the death of Gandalf. Like I am.

"C'mon, Lia," I try to be optimistic. "There has to be somewhere safe in there! Otherwise Aragorn wouldn't have suggested staying there."

"Right…"

Gandalf's death must have taken a bigger toll on her then I realized. "Race you?"

Ophelia smiles, and her sunny persona (and deadly) is out again. "Last one there is a rotten egg!"

She sprints, leaving me in the dust. "Hey! Lia! Wait! Not fair! Totally not –"

"Ada," Ophelia mocks me. "Hurry. Or I will _truly _leave you in the dust."

We run, and I feel like I am running, just like the day I was 'late' for my archery competition. So long ago… The grass steadily turns greener, and the trees are almost… magical. When I breathed in, it seemed like there was a magical sensation, like when the elevation is too high and you start to feel light-headed.

"This place… is beautiful," Murmurs Ophelia. "I don't remember it being – the illustrations being this vivid…"

Ophelia was about to slip something there, but I do not push her. Leaves from the trees fall gently, like a models hair in a shampoo commercial. Yeah, umm, that's all I got.

"Stay close, young Hobbits," Gimli grunts… but then he always does. "They say a great sorceress lives in these woods, an elf-witch of terrible power. All those who look upon her, fall under her spell."

Frodo looks traumatized for a few seconds, as if he had seen the 'evil elf-witch' himself.

"Well, here is one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily," Gimli boasts. "I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

Several arrows were pointed at Gimli, and I frantically look around, seeing we are surrounded, before notching my bow as well. I sigh as I look around. Great. More beautiful, graceful, best-at-everything Elves. Aragorn slowly raises his hands, in a surrendering motion.

"The Dwarf breathes so loudly, we could've shot him in the dark," A blonde Elf says, matter-of-factly. Gimli mutters profanities. At least in his head.

"_Mae govannas, Legolas Thranduilion_,"* The elf said, a little less stiffly then before.

"_Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien_,"** Legolas replies.

Oh-h-h. So his name is Haldir. Haldir looked at Aragorn and says, "_A, Aragorn in Dúnedain istannen le amen_."***

"_Haldir_," Aragorn says, giving a slight bow.

"So much of the legendary courtesy of the Elves!" Gimli scoffs. "Speak words we can all understand!"

"We have not had dealings with Dwarves since the Dark Days," Haldir says, his voice eerily calm.

"And you know what this Dwarf says to that?" Gimli sputters angrily. "_Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul_!"****

Ophelia starts snickering and I recognize the words 'spit' and 'grave' from the curses Gimli taught us, making me laugh silently as well.

"Ver-y-y courteous, Gimli," Ophelia says between snickers. "So _very _courteous."

"So not hy-y-y-pocritical, Gimli, not at _all_," I choke out, laughing. I had worked out the insult, and Haldir looked confused _I_, of all people, an _Elf_, knew the secret language of Dwarves.

Aragorn shoots us glares and Haldir looks unaffected. He walks by us and looks at Frodo and in a mysterious voice (god, I've had _enough _of this mysterious stuff!) says, "You bring great evil with you…"

Haldir looks like he is making a decision. "You can go no further."

WHAT?! We all look a Frodo, looking very abashed at what had happened.

* * *

Here I am, sitting down, utterly bored. I don't even try to listen to listen to Haldir's and Aragorn's conversation.

I close my eyes and lean my head back, looking at the sky, far above. It was a magnificent blue.

"Beautiful, is it not?" I jump, startled, (frankly, there are _way _too many things that want to kill me), but discover it is only Legolas.

"Yeah," I mumble, my throat hurting from looking up so high. "It is."

"Lothlórien is one of these places where sorrows float away, as if a dream," Legolas says. "That is what I feel, every time I visit here."

A few metres from us is Boromir and Frodo, having a conversation about Gandalf not dying in vain.

"You will follow me," Haldir says in a mono-tone voice. Looks like Aragorn won that argument.

The FOTW marched in a single-file line, following Haldir and making sure we didn't fall off the small dirt path. We walk uphill for quite some time, until we come to a clearing.

"Caras-Galadhon – the heart of Elvendom on Earth," Haldir exclaimed, proudly. "Realm of the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, Lady of Light."

Huge trees were towering over the kingdom. Most epic treehouse, _ever_.

More stairs. I am about to murder myself. WHY CAN'T MIDDLE EARTH SIMPLY INVENT ELEVATORS?!

Okay, rant (as short as it was) is over. Whoo-o-o. Had to get that out. We climb up spiral stairs, twinkling lights, and more Elves on different levels of the tree. We reach a platform with a glass bottomed mid – hold on. There's no glass. Heh, heh, heh, nothing to worry about. Not going to fall off of a giant tree…

Suddenly, light is appearing from the steps we didn't go up. A beautiful Elf is there, perfect wavy blonde hair and light blue eyes. I am instantly jealous.

"The enemy knows you have entered here," The guy Elf says. I think it's _ellon_, for male Elves and _elleths _for female? Yeah, let's go with that. This must be Celeborn. Lord of Lothlórien. "What hope you have in secrecy is now gone."

Thanks a lot for the moral support. Just make us even more nervous. Thanks, _so _much.

Celeborn continues. "Ten there are, yet eleven there were, set from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."

Asshole! Is he doing this on purpose?

_I would much desire is you did not call my husband an 'asshole'_, A voice echoed through my mind.

HOLY SHI –

_Now, there is no need for that foul language_, I turn to Galadriel with a small smile on her face.

_You can effin' read minds?! _I think back. That is just one plain creepy chick. Galadriel ignores me.

Celeborn looks at all of us, his eyes resting on Ophelia. "I can no longer see him from afar."

Ophelia suddenly jumps a bit and her expression turns hostile at Galadriel. Oh-h, so she just found out Galadriel can read minds.

I smile at Ophelia, assuring her it's okay, but I do the opposite of that. She is sending _glares_ at Galadriel now.

_Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land, _Galadriel whispers in our minds. Outloud she said; "He has fallen to shadows."

Aragorn gives the tiniest of nods, and almost I cannot see it.

"He was taken by both shadow and flame; a Balrog of Morgoth," Legolas says, with dejection in his voice. "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

Gimli looks ashamed, that he even suggested to go to Moria. I see Ophelia give him a reassuring smile, but he does not look comforted.

"Needless none of the deeds in Gandalf's life," Galadriel states. "We do not yet know his whole purpose. Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."

Gimli looks up, now his face full of hope. I put a hand on his shoulder, and he smiles kindly at me.

"What becomes now of this Fellowship?" Celeborn asks us. "Without Gandalf, hope is now lost."

Thanks for the encouraging words.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife," Galadriel agrees. "Stray but a little, and it will fall, to the ruin of all. Yet, hope remains while the company stays true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace."

Ophelia looks distrustful, and mutters something even I cannot pick up.

"I would like to speak with you, Lia," Galadriel commanded.

Ophelia gives a tight smile and says, "Oh, of course."

She and Galadriel walk away, Ophelia mouthing _9-11_.

I shrug – what can I do? – and she gives me a look screaming bloody murder.

* * *

Soft singing. Beautiful, yet, I quote, _mingled with grief_. Ophelia still has not yet come back, and I worry about her. We are given a place to rest, and I hear the sharp _sheek _of Aragorn's blade.

"A lament for Gandalf," Legolas says, sadly. No, sadly isn't the right word for an elf. _Sorrowfully_, is better.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asks, wondering.

I pick up a few stray words, guard, wisest, journey, but stay silent. Lothlórien Elves suck. All they do is bring back pain, and live in cool houses.

"I have not the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is still too near," Legolas answers. That was the most polite _shut up_ I have ever heard.

"The finest rockets ever seen," I hear Sam recite. "They burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder, silver showers, came falling like a rain of flowers. Oh, that doesn't do him justice… not by a long road."

"I think it was wonderful, Sam," Ophelia pips. The Hobbits jump and I see Aragorn and Boromir's eyes widen a little. "It _did _do him justice. Your poem was wonderful. And far less sad than those petty Elves'."

Sam turns red and stutters out; "You think so, Miss Lia?"

Ophelia smiles. "'Course."

"What did Lady Galadriel talk to you about, Lia?" I ask her, curious at what took her so long. I see Pippin and Merry's eyes spark with interest as well.

"Oh, nothing," Ophelia laughs. "Just a bit of hope and sh -… ugar… like that."

"She talked about sugar?" Pippen cocks his head and I bite my lip, trying not to laugh. "Did she indeed, Lia?"

Ophelia gives me a nasty look and puts on a sweet smile. "Yes, yes she did. Did some compares."

Nice save, Ophelia.

* * *

I hear something. A rustle of leaves. I jolt up, the same time as Ophelia does.

We have the same question written on our face. What was that?

I hear another crunch at the leaves and it is extremely loud. Where is it coming from? I see Ophelia pointing at a light. Galadriel. Jesus, that woma – Elf – draws moonlight like a flame does to moths. We silently creep up, and I see Frodo following Galadriel, almost like he is drawn to her by an invisible force.

_Weird, much? _I mouth to Ophelia.

_I have seen wizards, Elves, hairy feet, nothing weirds me out any more_, That took quite some time to decipher, but I find Ophelia right. Nothing really weirds me out anymore.

We trickle down a spiral staircase, Galadriel being the light in the grey. She is dressed in all white, and Frodo follows her, and we follow Frodo.

Galadriel hurries down the last few steps and I see at the bottom, there is a silvery basin on a pedestal. Galadriel gets a pitcher and fills it with running water. By then, Frodo has reached the bottom and Ophelia and I are hot on his tail.

Galadriel slowly turns around, and says to Frodo; "Will you look into the mirror?"

Frodo looks wary, and continues to walk. "What will I see?"

Galadriel almost smirks, but there is still that unnerving kindness in her eyes, which I find _really _creepy.

"Even the wisest cannot tell, for the mirror shows many things," Like, that's not creepy at all. Galadriel pours water into the basin, and a steady light glows silver. "Things that were, things that are, and some things… that have not yet come to pass."

So… this is like the mirror from Snow White? Except it didn't really show past or future… Frodo slowly approached the pedestal, and peers into the 'mirror', and gives Galadriel a look. She betrays no emotion.

Frodo gave a stuttered gasp, and Galadriel still has the same mask of emotionless on. Ophelia and I get ready to jump in when needed.

_What the hell? _I mouth to Ophelia but Ophelia gives me the shushing gesture. Frodo tumbles back and I catch him, barely.

"I know what it is you saw," Galadriel says evenly. "For it is also in _my _mind."

… Galadriel is the creepiest person/Elf/Dwarf/Hobbit _ever_. And that's saying _a lot_.

I think Galadriel is talking to Frodo and Ophelia telepathically, as they are nodding and have fear in their eyes. Why am _I _always left out?

"If you ask it of me, I will give you the One Ring," Frodo says. Wow, that is one strong Hobbit. He rips the ring off of his neck and holds it in the palm of his hand.

"You offer it to me freely," Galadriel says, almost in awe. She trails back to us, as if she is drawn like any other person is to the ring. "I do not deny my heart has greatly desired this…"

"In place of the Dark Lord, you would have a Queen, not dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Dawn. Treacherous as the Sea! Stronger than the foundations of the earth...all shall love me and despair!" Galadriel went supernova for a few sentences and we all took a step back. Terrible as the Dawn? I don't get it.

Galadriel looks rattled as she turns back to her own form. "I – I passed the test. I will diminish and go into the west and remain Galadriel."

Frodo loses his confidence and whispers, "I cannot do this alone."

Ophelia whispers to him; "You have us, Frodo. Don't forget."

Galadriel looks at him sternly and says in a scolding manner, "You are the ring-bearer, Frodo… to bear a Ring a Power is _to be alone_."

Wow, aren't those words jolly nice? Galadriel continues.

"This is Nenya, ring of Adamant, and I am its keeper," Galadriel says, raising her head. "This task was appointed to you. And if you do not find a way… no one will."

Silence. I could hear Gimli snoring from here.

"Then I know what I need to do," Frodo understands. "But… I'm afraid to do it."

Galadriel kneels, and stares at Frodo intensely. "Even the smallest person can change the course of the future."

Frodo shakes and trembles, and I steady him.

His hand closes over the ring.

* * *

*Well met, Legolas, Son of Thranduil. In Elvish

**Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien. In Elvish.

*** Aragorn of Dúnedain, you are known to us. In Elvish.

****I spit upon your grave! In Khuz-dul.

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Well… Lothlórien is hear! Sorry for the small three day delay. I was on vacation. Smiley face. I hope that was a good enough chapter, even though it's immensely boring. Next chapter, Ophelia's point of view and they are departing Lothlórien. Yay!

I want to thank _DarkRose35 _for following and favourite-ing. Have some virtual, umm, let's just go with … soufflé? Yeah, chocolate soufflé. Well, enjoy!

Thank you to _FreeSpiritSeeker_, for reviewing, and, yeah, the movie at that part… Hmm, not the best. There's this really cool poster about cupcakes… I'll link it here… .uk/p/-once-you-lick-the-frosting-off-a-cupcake-it-becomes-a-muffin-and-muffins-are-healthy-youre-welcome/

The poster describes the awesomeness of cupcakes. :D So have some more!

Thanks so much,

_BlueDaylighter_

P.S I finally changed the title!


	13. Chapter 12 - Ophelia

Chapter 12 – Ophelia

Galadriel… I'm not sure whether to consider her as a friend, enemy or a frenemy. She... knew all along. I have to admit, I… I'm not ready to tell anyone else right now. I'm so close to breaking down, and if I do, I won't be able to stand back up.

Adeline has noticed I was acing different, despite all my acts and confusion. Will she ever forgive me? Will she even _know_?

_Tell her, Ophelia_, Galadriel's words clambered in my mind, when I went to talk to her. _Tell her everything_.

No, not right now. At least not today.

_She will forgive you_.

I'm not so sure about that.

* * *

My head lifts from leaves, where I slept. It is still dark, and, from the looks of it, about 3 or 4 AM. I prop my head on my hand, my elbow in the dirt. What is the use of sleeping?

I see Boromir in the moonlight and I silently stalk up to him, he jumping a bit when he felt my hand on his shoulder.

"What's up?" I ask him.

"The sky," His voice is hard and he leans his head up, staring up at the sky. "Tis beautiful. Unlike the times we live in, today."

"Indeed," I agree. "May I sit…?"

He moves over, allowing me a place to sit. "What are you pondering about?"

"I think of my home, Miss Lia," Boromir says, softly. "Gondor."

"Is it beautiful?" I knew what Gondor looked like, I had been there, long ago, yes, but I wanted to hear it from the great Steward of Gondor's son himself.

"Very," Boromir nods. "But… these are dark times, Miss Lia. There is no hope left for Gondor. My hope departed as soon as my father's ruling failed. He is a nobleman, Miss Lia, but our people… they are losing faith."

"_Hope is the thing with feathers_," I am starting to quote Emily Dickinson, and Boromir glances at me. "_That perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all_."

"That is pleasing statement, Miss Lia," Boromir says. "Who is the poet?"

"What?" I feign offense. "You don't think _I _could have said those words?"

"No – no, Miss Lia," Boromir backtracks.

"It's fine, Boromir," I laugh. "The poet is Emily Dickinson. Beautiful words, no?"

Boromir nods, he closes his eyes.

"This is by Sri Chinmoy," I inform him and say; "_Hope, knows no fear. Hope dares to blossom, even inside the abysmal abyss. Hope secretly feeds, and strengthens, promise_."

"Tell me more, Miss Lia," Boromir almost begs. "Hope… I think I can almost feel it again."

I smile, Boromir cares deeply about his people, and their safety. "This is said by Samuel Smiles, a favourite of mine. "_Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey towards it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us_."

"Thank you Miss Lia," Boromir thanks me. "Those words have restored something I have not felt in a long time."

I think hard of a quote I can share with Boromir. A work of my own. Suddenly I look up at the stars.

"Hope," I begin. "Is like a star. Born from grief, and disease, but once made, tis a beautiful thing. Hope stays with you for your whole life, like a star, burning brightly, even in the midst of darkness. It only diminishes when you are ready to move on, and have done what you have meant to do."

"You are a fine poet," Boromir remarked.

My face showed shock. "How – did you –?"

"I can tell, Miss Lia," Boromir says, his voice mysterious. "But I think your work is much better than any other."

I think I am blushing. Right now, nothing makes sense. "Thank you?"

"We are departing in the morn," Boromir says, changing the topic quickly. "We must make haste to destroy the ring."

"So you feel its power?"

Boromir looks vulnerable. "Yes." He confesses. "I do."

"Don't let that worry you," I say gently. "Remember, there's Ada, Legolas, Aragorn and I. There is also my quote. It belongs to us. To both of us. To remind us to never give up."

"Thank you Miss Lia," Boromir says softly. "Thank you."

I feel so guilty, because I have given him hope, where I have none. I _cannot _have any. Because, you could say, I choose to have none.

* * *

I yawn. Did I fall asleep next to Boromir? That brings an unexpected flush to my face.

_No_, I tell myself forcefully. _You are not allowed to get a crush before… Just, shut up._

I discover am sitting where I got up in the middle of the morning. _What time is it…?_

I squint up at the sky, the sun just barely risen over the horizon. Great, just great. Am I late? No, Adeline is still sleeping and so are the Hobbits. Well, better wake them up.

"Yo, Ada," I nudge my friend. "Wake up."

"Five more minutes, Mommy," Adeline murmurs, trying to block the sunlight hitting her face. "I wanna go to sleep."

I chuckle, and say, "Fine, but don't blame me when the Fellowship screams bloody murder at you to wake up."

I sit down, and grab some ink out of my backpack, and continue to write my letter…

A few minutes later, Adeline _still _wasn't up, so I left Legolas (the poor Elf) to wake Adeline up. After some crap I wasn't really listening to (something about clothes that are never given outside Elves from Lórien?) and we made our way to a few small Elven boats.

I see Legolas packing cloaks and small packages into a boat where Merry and Pippen sit.

"Lembas," He says, his voice wondrous. "Elvish waybread."

He takes a bite out of the bread, and continues. "One small bite is enough to fill a stomach of a grown man."

Legolas nods and walks away, Merry immediately turning to Pippin. "How many did you eat?"

"Four," Pippin says so matter-of-factly, that I give out a strangled gasp of mirth. How did that Hobbit manage to eat _four_? I bet even _Gimli _couldn't eat that much.

"What is wrong, Miss Lia?" Legolas asks me, him seeing I was choking on air.

"Pippin… ate _four _Lembas!" I exclaim and Legolas has a shocked expression on, that I laugh even harder.

"Four…?" He says, disbelieving. "That Hobbit… Four Lembas could feed an _army_, yet that Hobbit ate it _all_?"

"Never question the appetite of a Hobbit," I tell him, and flounce away. "Elves… are so dimwitted sometimes."

I race over to another boat, hopping in. Adeline climbs in with me. "So, what's up?"

"Aside from a chance of us nearly dying in the next week?" I try to joke. "Not much, really."

We row into Anduin, great, us rowing steadily south. I was rowing and Adeline said she'd row when we took our break.

I hear Gimli and Legolas conversing about the gifts Galadriel gave us.

_Flashback_

"My gift for you, Legolas," Galadriel announced. "Is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin."

Legolas looks at the bow in awe, testing it out. Galdriel smiles her smile and moves on to Pippin and Merry. "These are the daggers of Noldorin. They have already seen service in war."

Pippin looks down, looking incredulous. Why would someone gift him with such a weapon?

"Do not fear, young Peregrin Took. You will find your courage," Galadriel encourages him. She moves on to Sam. "And for you, Samwise Gamgee: Elven rope, made of hithlain."

"Thank you, my lady," Sam looks jealously at Merry and Pippen. "Have you run out of those nice, shiny daggers?"

Galadriel smiles in a _One day _way and goes on to Gimli. Gimli looks downwards. "And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?"

Gimli grunted, "Nothing," but his attitude quickly changed. "Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth."

Galadriel giggles (wow…) and smiles at the Dwarf that's walking away. He halts. "Actually, there was one thing — ah, agh, that's quite impossible. Stupid to ask."

Galadriel went to Aragorn and they were quietly talking to each other.

"I have nothing greater to give, than the gift you already bear," Galadriel says, softly. "_Am meleth dîn. I ant e-guil Arwen Undómiel…pelitha_."*

There is sorrow in Aragorn's eyes. I have seen the same in my eyes. I see it every time I look into a mirror. "_Aníron i e broniatha ar periatham amar hen. Aníron e ciratha a Valannor_."**

Galadriel looks unfazed, just like all goddamned Elves look like. "That choice is yet before her. You have your own choice to make, Aragorn… to rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness… with all that is left of your kin."

She looks down at his pendant, and there is a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "_Namárië_,"*** Galadriel tells Aragorn. "_Nadath nâ i moe cerich… Dan…ú-'eveditham, Elessar_."****

Galadriel is not done. "Farewell, Frodo Baggins. I give you the light of Eärendil, our most beloved star." She hands him a crystal vial shaped like a teardrop. "May it be a light for you, in dark places, when all other lights go out."

"I gift you this scroll, Ada," Galadriel says. "You will know when to open it."

Galadriel left her, looking mystified.

"Ah, Lia," She fixes her eyes on me. "You know what you have to do, Lia. Do not lose hope so quickly."

"Of course, my lady," I mutter, Adeline shooting me concerned looks. I didn't need that. I just didn't believe the Lady of Light.

_End of flashback_

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest," Gimli says. "Haugh, henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

"What is it?" Legolas asks, his voice curious.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three," Gimli says, his own voice not believing it. I smile. This – an Elf and a Dwarf – are finally getting along. Even if it's the Lady of Light.

* * *

The next morning, we row once more, Adeline rowing this time.

"Frodo, the Argonath!" I hear Aragorn's excited whisper. Frodo looks up the same time I do, as we witness two great statues, their palms raised, as if crying a warning. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin."

Right. Aragorn heir to Gondor.

We dock soon enough, as a great, roaring waterfall approaches. Somebody makes a fire, I am not sure who, but I hear the snap and crackles of it.

"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north," Aragorn orders.

"Oh, yes?! It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better!" Gimli scoffs. Ah, that dear Dwarf! Our sarcasm has rubbed off onto him. He makes me so proud. "Festering, stinking marshlands, far as the eye can see!"

Aragorn glares at Gimli. "That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

"Recover my…?!" Gimli sputters, outraged. "Phrrreee…"

I start to tune out after that. It wasn't until Merry said something that caught my attention.

"Where's Frodo?"

I am now alert, as I look around, whipping my head from side to side. _Where is he?_

My eyes glaze as I see Boromir's shield is left, with all his luggage.

"Where's Borormir?" I ask, dread filling me up.

"Split up!" Aragorn cries. "Find them – quickly!"

I go in a hastily organized group with Merry and Pippen, Adeline, in a group with Aragorn.

"Merry, Pippen," I say, ripping through the forest, trying to find Boromir. "C'mon! We have to find them!"

I hear rustle of leaves. That is never good. Battle cries. Shit.

"Get down!" I hiss at Merry and Pippen. I indicate at a tree-trunk. "In here! Now!"

I suddenly see a glimpse of a figure – Frodo! Orcs are passing by, I wondering to myself, _how can they not see Frodo? _But, nonetheless, I am grateful for their dimwittedness.

"Frodo!" Merry whispers, as the orcs pass by. "Hide here!"

"Quick!" Pippen chimed in. "C'mon!"

Frodo shakes his head slowly.

"Frodo!" I moan.

"What's he doing'?" Pippen asks, his voice full of panic.

"He's leaving," I say, not daring to believe my words.

"No!" Pippen exclaims and dashes out of the bushes.

"Are you a lunatic?" I scream at him. "What –?"

"Ova here!" Pippen screams. "Over here!"

It clicks. He's trying to lead them away from Frodo. I help instantly. "Over here, maggots! What are you? Slower than a snail?"

The orcs, now furious, start chasing after us, giving Frodo and I a chance to lock eyes.

_Go_, I mouth to him, and he hastily runs.

"It's working!" Pippen exclaims.

"I know it's working!" Merry says, irritably. "Now, _run_!"

We are trapped. There is a wall behind us. Oh shit, oh no, oh fgdslfjk!

"AHHHHH!" I hear somebody screaming, clashing swords. Boromir! I smile, and take out my sword as well, clashing, knowing the familiar _sheek _to the blades. Merry and Pippen join as well, getting out their daggers that were presented to them by Galadriel. We fight, as if we had fought side by side for years.

I grunt as I try to dodge all the moves that the orcs were trying to kill me with. There are too many. I cast a fearful look to Boromir, who already has his horn of Gondor out. He blows it, and it is the most miraculous sound I can hear at the moment. This means Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and Adeline will come… right?

More orcs are coming and I scream, "Run! RUN!"

We cannot outlast all of them. Never in a million years. "Pippen, Merry! RUN!"

Boromir and I resume fighting with all the orcs, meeting blade after blade, dodging arrow after arrow. Merry and Pippen, in a desperate act of hope, throw their daggers, hitting true.

"YES!" I yell. "HOBBITS KICK ASS!"

There are more archers, now, not as good as Legolas, but good enough to hit true.

"Watch out!" I warn Boromir. He nods, and continues hacking at the damned orcs. An archer aims at Boromir.

_No! _

I will _not _let that arrow hit him. It is time.

The world is in slow-mo. contrary to Adeline beliefs, the world _does _go slow when you are about to die. You also see the last important thing in your life. For me, it was my talk with Galadriel.

_Flashback_

"Hello, Lia," Galadriel says, almost loftily. "Or should I say _Ophelia_?"

"Galadriel," I respond back stiffly. "My father has told me about you and your ways to… communicate."

"You are much like your father," Galadriel says, circling the perimeter of the room. "Yet, you are also much _not _like your father."

"Come again?" I glare at her. "I am my father's daughter and _proudly_."

"I know what you seek," Galadriel says, in her all wisdom voice. "Do not lose hope so quickly. Frodo needs you. Sam needs you. _Adeline _needs you."

I bow my head, ashamed. "I'm not sure she will be willing to forgive me, Galadriel. After… after everything."

"Tell her, Ophelia," Galadriel tells me. "Tell her _everything_."

"I – I –" My voice cracks. This is not what I had planned. "I'll write everything down, I will tell her everything in that letter. I promise."

"You seek her forgiveness?"

"Honestly," I say, bitterly. "I'm not sure if she will even _acknowledge_ me after this."

"She will forgive you," Galadriel says, comforting me. "She is a good friend."

"I know she is," I say. "I just am not."

"Also, if you choose to…" Galadriel trails off, but I know what she meant to say. "Then remember, _he _is important."

"Who is he, then?" I demand. "I will do what I can in my life."

"I cannot tell you now," Galadriel says. "The Valar forbids me, even after talking to you. But at the right time, you will know."

_He _is important. The question was, _who_?

_End of flashback_

Now, I knew. I knew, and I am willing to give up my life for him, and he will never know the true reason. Because I am selfish. I am _beyond _selfish. Too selfish, and I am doing the world good, when I let go of it.

_Adeline_, is my last thought as three arrows hit my upper body. She does not need a selfish friend like me.

Boromir screaming my name… when he and the Hobbits are carted off to who-knows-where.

"No-o," My voice cracks, blood falling in great quantity. This is it. I'm going to die.

"OPHELIA!"

I'm sorry Adeline.

* * *

*For her love, I fear the grace of Arwen Evenstar… will diminish. In Elvish.

**I would have her leave these shores, and be with her people. I would have her take the ship to Valinor. In Elvish.

***Farewell. In Elvish.

****There is much you have yet to do. We shall not meet again, Elessar. In Elvish.

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

How was that? What's going to happen? Is Ophelia going to live or die? And her father knows about Middle Earth?! Hope you guys liked this chapter. And I hope Boromir wasn't too OOC at the beginning.

Thank you to _FreeSpiritSeeker _for reviewing. Galadriel's powers are creepy. But then again… who am I to judge the wonderful works of an Elves mind? Restocked the cupcake… jar. Pick your fav.

Thank you to _DeLacus _for following, favourite-ing, and reviewing, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Have some chocolate. Never question the wondrous works of chocolate, either.

Thanks to _nightravinn _for following, it's always appreciated! Gosh, I'm running out of desserts. *Searches Wikipedia for more deserts _that I've actually heard about_* Alright! Have some apple pie!

And to _light123_, thank you for following my story. Have some cheesecake!

Also, thank you to _all _my readers, and remember, reviews, favourite's, and follows are loved. Thanks so much,

_BlueDaylighter_


	14. Chapter 13 - Adeline

Chapter 13 – Adeline

_About 15 minutes before Ophelia got shot. _

When I heard a horn, I knew things would turn ugly. _Very _ugly. I shared a panicked look with Legolas and Aragorn before I clashed my way through the ugly… they are too ugly to be even called _orcs_.

"Where are they?" I had said, an orcs blade cutting my in the arm. I ignored the pain. "Where?!"

"Over here!" Aragorn had gestured, us fighting through the foliage of orcs. It was like running in water, waist-deep. You can do it gracefully (cough, cough, Aragorn and Legolas), but you would still be slow, as the water would prevent you from going fast. In this case, the orcs were the water (_So_ much uglier than water) and we were the people trying to cross it.

"DUCK!" I screamed at Aragorn, who – bless the heavens – did not stand around like an idiot, shouting 'Where?'.

I knew we were not fast, but I had thought we would be fast enough to help Boromir and Ophelia, as Boromir really would _never _lower his pride unless there was someone he cared about in danger.

"Legolas, leave them be!" I yelled at him, branches trying to prevent me from getting to Ophelia. He had shot me a crazy look, but ran up to me – curse his Elvish grace! Erm… bad timing, anyways…

"Pardon?" Legolas had said, him going at, like, a _jogging _pace. Well, thanks for increasing my self-esteem. "Are you crazy? We have to kill every one of those foul creatures!"

"Legolas, we don't have time!" I try to explain to him. "Boromir needs us!"

That had jolted him, and we were both running at full speed, as the horn had sounded once more.

"Sh -… ugar!" I curse, but all my mind had thought of was Ophelia's lame cover up. Ophelia couldn't be in danger, could she? I curse (_Zut!_)* and hopped across branches. I was silently praying that the gods of Valar or something wold cut me some slack. I _definitely _didn't need to trip there and then.

I come to a clearing, and all I see is Ophelia – she's safe! Oh… shit, no! No, this _cannot _be happening. This only happens in movies!** I saw three arrows in her upper body, and another orc pointed an arrow at her, while she breathed hard.

He notched an arrow –

Aragorn tackled him, and I could not stand it any longer.

"OPHELIA!"

_Present time_

Her names rips through the small clearing, and only then, do I realize my mistake. I see from the corner of my eye that Aragorn and Legolas are fighting the one last orc. He is lasting longer than the others. Is he the leader? Sorry, _was _he the leader. He just got his ass kicked.

"Ophelia," I beg her. "Don't, please don't, no! Don't leave me with these – these males! I need your help! Don't – don't –"

The word _die _dies on my lips, as I try to say it again and again, but all I get is this dry, cracking sound. Aragorn and Legolas rush over, trying to find out what was wrong.

I grab her by the shirt and haul her up, maybe a bit to desperately. She croaks out something. "What? What?"

"They – they took the immature ones," Ophelia says, trying for some humour, but I do not smile. "Boromir… Pippin… Merry…"

"Be still," Aragorn commands, but Ophelia's bloodied face silently whispers the word no.

"I'm done," She says, her eyes glazing. "I – I hope I have done my service well… for the Fellowship."

"You did more than anyone else ever could, Ophelia," I say, using her real name. Legolas and Aragorn shoot me strange looks but my attention is focused on Ophelia.

"That's my name…" She grins at me toothily. "Say it… say it again."

"Ophelia," I repeat and her eyes glaze over. "No – no, don't leave me, Lia!"

"Frodo?" She asks, her voice still faint. "What has become of him?"

"We let him go, Miss Lia," Aragorn says. "We can try to heal…"

"No," Ophelia laughs, but she winces in the process of it. "I am long gone. Do me three last solids, King of Gondor, Prince of Mirkwood and Adeline of – of _home_."

"I'll do whatever I can, Lia, whatever you want," I promise and I see Legolas and Aragorn dipping their heads as well.

"Fine them, please," Ophelia says, her voice creaking and cracking. "And… Adeline… keep my belongings – will you? There – keep them to remind you of me. And…"

"What else?" I grip her hands tighter, anything to keep her alive and talking. "What else? What's the third thing? Ophelia! Please, keep on going! I need to know!"

"Remember… _Memento_"*** Ophelia says softly, her eyes roll back showing whites. "_Home is where the heart is_."

And with that, Ophelia drew her last breath, her chest rising softly… until it stopped. Ophelia was dead.

"No!" I strangle out. "'Phelia, _no_, don't, _you can't be dead_!"

Gimli suddenly appears – _now _he does?! – and discovers me clutching Ophelia's hand.

"Lass…" He trails off. I know he cared about Ophelia, and it pains him almost as much as it does to me.

Ophelia's hand thuds to ground when I discover I let go of it. No… I… I close my eyes, tears flowing like a flood, wetting Ophelia's face. Then, the strangest thing happens. Her body shimmered and grew fainter and fainter, until it bursts into firework particles, like – like _Gandalf's _fireworks. They looked like stars, shimmering in orbs of silver, blue and green and rose up to the sky.

_Find me, tonight_. Was all I heard. **(A/N Was going to stop here, but I discovered it was pretty short, so I'm continuing!)**

* * *

I am a mess. I am a _mess_. I just saw Ophelia… rise up and disappear! You try not to freak out when that happens to your best friend.

"That's impossible," Aragorn says, staring at where Ophelia once was.

"Ten – ten points to you, Sherlock," I choke, wiping my non-stopping tears. "Of _course _it's possible to – to rise up and disappear! Surely – that's what _always _happens… Of course it's impossible!"

Her sword, her daggers, everything that she held was gone, and all I could see was a dented spot in the grass.

"I'm sorry, Miss Adeline," Legolas says, his voice forlorn as well. He called me Adeline. Right.

"Ada," I snap, then my voice reclines. "That's what _she _always called me."

Legolas nods mutely, and says gently; "Her real name – Ophelia? Tis a beautiful name."

"For a beautiful lady," Aragorn adds, trying to cheer me up, but I see, in his eyes, shock. He has never seen anything like it before. Of course he hasn't. "Adelin – Ada. We must go."

Right away, your Royal Bluntness. "I 'm keeping her possessions."

"Of course, Ada," Legolas looks at me dead in the eye. "That's what she wanted."

"Wants," I snip. I refuse to believe she is dead. Too quickly, too soon. I know I am naïve, but I am still broken at what has happened. "Wants. No past tense."

Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn share a look, probably thinking I'm crazy, but they all nod reluctantly. I continue to stare at the place where Ophelia once was.

"I'm ready," I announce, getting up, my cloak stained with Ophelia's blood. "Let's go back."

No, I am hardly ready. I still remember Ophelia's smile, her sarcasm, her arrogance, her _anything_. I am still waiting for her to reappear somehow.

* * *

When we reach the shore where we left, Gimli quickly shoves a boat in the water.

"Quickly!" He grunts. "The Hobbits have reached the other side of the shore!"

We all stare at him blankly, and he realizes. "You tellin' me we ain't tracing 'em?"

"Then this Fellowship has been in vain," Legolas discards his words.

"No," I say, powerfully. "No."

Aragorn puts his hands on Legolas' shoulders and mine, and I put mine on Gimli's.

"Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry, Pippen and Boromir to torment and death," Aragorn says, confidentially. "Not while we have strength left."

"Yes," I say. "We will save _all _of them. We will."

"Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light," Aragorn says, a small smile splitting his face. "Let us hunt some Orc!"

"Yes!" Gimli cries. "Haha!"

I smirk, and see Ophelia's backpack, quickly slinging it over my back. "C'mon!"

Legolas and I share a smile, and we dash into the woods, following Gimli and Aragorn. Then, I could've almost forgotten about my sorrow, about Ophelia, but some hope lingered. The words I had heard were rolling in my mind.

_Find me tonight_.

I will, Ophelia. Trust me.

* * *

*Heck. In French. Funny story, my French teacher_ told_ me to say this instead of dammit. Best teacher _ever_.

**Oh, the irony.

***Remember. In Latin. Had to put it in, sorry.

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Well that's The Fellowship of the Ring out of the way! And on the other note…

Please don't kill me! I know a lot of you guys like Ophelia, but this was an important event. I'm so sorry! I teared up writing that scene about Ophelia dying. She's like my child, I _created _her. Quite literally. Now, I know I am a _terrible _mother. Trust me, I _hate _killing off my characters, they're my best friends, because when I was younger, I had none. I do now… but I feel like they take me for granted. Well, *hides behind couch* please don't chuck all the desserts I gave you, because _quite frankly _that's a lot. I hope you guys still liked this chapter.

Okay, callouts. I hope you all made it here safely!

Thank you to _DeLacus _for reviewing! Have some cookie _FreeSpiritSeeker _baked! They are DELISH.

Thank you to _SoraLover987142 _for following. Have some cookies! (Memento to thank _FreeSpiritSeeker_!)

Sorry about Ophelia dying… yet if you read the small spoiler, you know what will happen. Thanks so much for sticking with my story so far and your encouraging words, _FreeSpiritSeeker_. I love your cookies. May I have your recipe?

And… thank you to _Noxy the Proxy _for favourite-ing and your lovely review. Have some cookies.

I love all my readers _so _much, so thanks,

_BlueDaylighter_


	15. Chapter 14 - Adeline

Chapter 14 – Adeline

I lay down on rocks, silently, and crouch, looking over the horizon.

_Where are you, Merry? Pippin? Boromir? _I wonder. I did not want any more death. Not after Gandalf and… _her_.

"Their pace has quickened," Aragorn tells us in a hushed voice. "They must have caught our scent. Hurry!"

I sprint, right behind him, Legolas behind me, and Gimli is the last.

"Come on, Gimli!" Legolas urges.

"We haven't got all day, Gimli," I add. I wanted to fulfill Ophelia's wishes. If it's the last thing I do.

"Three day's and night's pursuit…" Gimli complains. "No food, no rest, and no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell."

I snicker, quietly, and we run across plains, trailing the orcs pretty efficiently. "Gimli! Come _on_!"

Gimli, being the Dwarf, was lacking in the physical department (running, I mean) shoots me a dirty look and huffs and puffs on.

We enter a valley, and Aragorn picks up something. "Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall."

"But we're so far from –" I stop. The broach. Not real leaves. _Oh-h-h_. Legolas gives me an almost amused look before turning to Aragorn.

"They may yet be alive," Legolas says, and I dare look up. Maybe Mother Nature _doesn't _hate us!

"Less than a day ahead of us!" Aragorn exclaims. I grin, I hope we're not too late.

"Come Gimli," Legolas calls. "We are gaining on them."

"I'm wasted on cross-country. We dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances." Gimli huffs.

"Is that so?" I comment dryly. My legs are tiring. Elves are supposed to, like, _never_ tire out, but maybe because I came from Earth before.

We run up a hill, and peer over it. I can see only plains, but maybe it's just me.

"Rohan," Aragorn breathes. "Home of the Horse-Lords."

Does that mean they're all Horse Whisperers or something? Or does it mean everyone can handle horses really freaking well?

"There's something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us." Aragorn informs us.

_Isn't there always? _I think sourly, and I see Legolas scanning the perimeter of the plain.

"Legolas," Aragorn calls. "What do your Elf eyes see?"

Thanks. Ignore the other Elf.

"The Uruks turn northeast!" Legolas announces. I have a feeling something dramatic is going to happen. "They are taking the hobbits to Isengard!"

Oh. Maybe I'm wrong?

"Saruman," Aragorn says grimly.

Never mind. I want to rip that wizards head off, put it on a stick and feed it to his own orcs.

"A red sun rises," Legolas says, his voice almost… fearful? "Blood has been spilt this night."

Wait, so every time we spill blood a red sun rises? Well, it's quite late. Where was it about two weeks ago? Instead I say, "Well, let us hope it is orcs blood."

Legolas smiles at me briefly, but my ears sense something. "I think something is coming."

Aragorn nods at me and we hide behind big boulders. About… thirty, forty horsemen pass us. How in the world did they not see us? They must be effin' _blind_, but whatever.

As the horsemen ride pass us, Aragorn climbs out and starts shouting at them. "Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?"

"_Tu es fou_!"* I hiss, at him, angrily. He _had _to ruin that.

At the signal of a man in front, the horses turned around, encircling us. I love you _so _much, Aragorn. Note the sarcasm. As they stop, they point their spears at us. Oh, _joy_.

"_Bon_**job, such a god job," I congratulate Aragorn and I shoot him a dirty look. "_Pourquoi_*** did you have to do that again?"

The men on the horses look startled that I (as in a women. Stupid, sexist, men) was traveling with them.

"What business does an Elf, a man, a Dwarf and a women have in the Riddermark?" A dude questions us.

I glare at him. "I am an _Elf_." I pull back my hair and show them my pointed ears. "Even though I don't want to be one, doesn't mean I am not."

The dude looks at me, apologetically, then his eyes are set on the others. "Speak quickly!"

"Give me your name, horsemaster, and I shall give you mine." Ah, the diplomatic approach. Fifty points to you, Gimli!

Aragorn puts his hand on Gimli's shoulder, I try to read his face, but it is unreadable.

"I would cut off your head — _Dwarf_ — if it stood but a little higher from the ground." The dude seethed. That was too far. Legolas and I notch our bows at the same time. All the spears get a bit closer. Too close for comfort.

"You would die before your stroke fell!" Legolas says, defending Gimli. Finally! They're friend… err, acquaintances – for now.

"You insult me, I'm fine," I snarl. "But, insult my friend, you're _dead _buddy."

Aragorn pushes Legolas' and my arms down, this time, shooting _us _dirty looks.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn," Aragorn says, monotonously. But, then again, when does he not? "This is Gimli, son of Glóin, and Legolas, from the Woodland realm."

The dude looks at me. "And you?"

"Ada Bronson," I say, clearing my throat. "From the Shire."

"An Elf from the Shire?" The dude questions me. "I have never heard of such an occurrence."

"How many Elves have you met?" I counter back. He seems taken aback. "That's what I thought."

Aragorn says quickly, "We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king."

"Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe," The dude takes off his helmet. "Not even his own kin."

That's… pitiful, but I know men from here. They do not accept pity or sorry. Spears are withdrawn, but the men still look at us in suspicion. Especially me.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over this land," The dude tells us. Just tell us your effin' name – please! "My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished."

"Well… that sucks," I comment, and the men look at me strangely. I shrug it off. I'm over this.

"The White Wizard is cunning," The dude continues. "He walks here and there they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked."

Like Gandalf.

The dude gives us (Legolas and I) a dark look. "And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."

"We are no spies," Aragorn insists. "We track a band of Uruk-hai westward across the plains. They have taken three of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night." The dude says… regretfully?

"B-but, there were two Hobbits and one man!" I say, as my eyes widen. "Did you see them?"

"They would be small, only children to your eyes," Aragorn adds, helpfully.

"We left none alive," The dude says, looking downwards. ""We piled the carcasses and burned them." He pointed to a drift of smoke in the distance.

"Dead?" Gimli says, his voice hoarse.

"No!" I say. I am done with death. It took away all that I've cared for. Uruks didn't take away the Hobbits. Death did. The arrows didn't take away Ophelia's life. Death did. The Balrog didn't take Gandalf's life. Death did. Tears prickle my eyes. "No! How could you? How can you mistake two innocent Hobbits and one man for _Uruks_? How _dare _you?!"

"I am sorry," The dude says, his voice almost sounding crestfallen. He whistles. "Hasufel! Arod!"

Two majestic horses appear, but even they cannot take away my sorrow.

"May these horses bear you to better fortune than the former masters. Farewell," The dude puts back on his helmet and climbs onto his horse. "Look for your friends, but do not trust the hope. It has forsaken these lands. We ride north!"

* * *

We ride the horses (Gimli and Aragorn and Legolas and I) to the burned carcasses. I wrap my arms around Legolas' waist to avoid falling off, but that is not really my main worry.

When we get there, it is gruesome. There are burned Uruks everywhere, and my eyes shift, because the sight is horrible.

I get off from the horse (not falling, thank Mother Nature) and go for the pile, no matter how disgusting. I remove axes, body… you know what? I don't want to scar you guys for life, so let's move on.

Gimli says something that jars my attention. "It's one of their wee belts."

Legolas bows his head, and closes his eyes. "_Hiro hyn hîdh ab wanath._"****

"Don't say that!" I scream at him. "They're not dead! Maybe – maybe – they crawled away or something. Just don't say they're dead!"

They take no heed to what I said. Aragorn kicks an Uruks helmet and yells in anguish.

"We failed them," Gimli says, quietly.

"No, you guys, don't –" I say, desperately.

"Two Hobbits lay here," Aragorn says, his eyes filling with hope. "And a man."

"I told you!" I say, in a relieved tone. Too relieved to be smug.

"They crawled… their hands were bound…" Aragorn finds a jagged rope. "Their bonds were cut… They ran over here… and were followed."

"Their tracks lead them into…" I have no idea what forest it is. "That forest."

"Fangorn Forest," Legolas says, helpfully.

"Fangorn?" Gimli says, aghast. "What madness drove them there?"

"Gimli," I say seriously. "When you're facing death, you'd do _anything_."

* * *

We have run into Fangorn forest, and I see a black liquid on a leaf. Gimli picks it up, and licks it.

"Orc blood," He spits it out.

"You _licked _that?" I ask, incredulous. "That is _insanely _gross. Even on _my _level."

Gimli shrugs. "I wish I hadn't, lassie."

"These are strange tracks," Aragorn notes.

"This is Fangorn Forest, dude," I inform him. "Everything is strange."

Aragorn ignores me and I glance over to Gimli. "The air is so close here."

"This Forest is old. Very old," Legolas states. "Full of memory… and anger."

"How old is it?" I ask him, I'm curious. These trees are very old looking, but you never know here. I bet Gimli's over 100.

Leglas gives me a wry smile and says; "Very old."

Thanks, Mr. Helpful. And how old is _very old_?

"The trees are speaking to each other," Legolas speaks up. That is absurd. Talking _trees_? There is suddenly a swishing sound. I close my eyes and hear a voice.

_Look! That Dwarf is carrying an axe! Is he going to chop us down? _

"What the _heck_?" I say, shocked. Legolas gives me an amused look before I curse. "Gimli, lower your axe."

"Huh?"

"Lower. Your. Axe." I repeat slowly. Talking trees. This is just plain creepy. Also, I did not need an angry tree on my watch.

"Oh!"

Smart Dwarf.

"They have feelings, my friend," Legolas explains. "The Elves began it: waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

"Talking trees," Gimli grumbles. "What do trees have to talk about, hmm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings."

I snicker, Gimli and his large amount of common sense. "They could talk about a lot of things. Like how ugly we all look to them."

"Ugly?" Gimli scoffs, offended. "Ugly? As if."

"Aragorn, _nad no ennas_!"***** Legolas says.

"_Man cenich_?"****** Aragorn asks. I knew what that meant. Cows eat ducks. _Duh_. No, I'm pretty sure it meant something like _What do you see_ or something like that.

Legolas' eyes dart to the right, and says, "The White Wizard approaches."

"Do not let him speak," Orders Aragorn. "He will put a spell on us!"

Aragorn wraps his hand around the hilt of his sword, Gimli tightened his hold on his axe. Legolas and I both grabbed an arrow.

"We must be quick," Aragorn says. No shit, Sherlock.

We turn on our heels, and attack, but Gimli and Legolas' arrows are simply deflected, Araogrn's sword become red, and my arrow just simply disintegrates.

A blinding white light is shown, and I cover my eyes. Now, I know what it is like to be a vampire in the sun. Just not really any pain.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits and a man," A deep gravelly voice says.

"Where are they?!" I demand.

"They passed this way, the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" The voice says.

"Not really," I mutter.

"Who are you?" Aragorn says. "Show yourself!"

The light dimmed, and I was prepared to see the Evil White Wizard, but…

"Gandalf?" I whisper.

Legolas quickly bowed and Gimli followed his lead. I guess I should too. I did, because when there is a super-ultra powerful wizard (friend or foe) you do _not _want to piss them off.

"It cannot be!" Aragorn gasps, sounding shocked.

"Forgive me," Legolas apologizes. "I mistook you for Saruman."

"I am Saruman. Or rather Saruman as he should have been." Gandalf says, almost amused.

"You fell!" Aragorn says, almost accusingly.

Yay, for Aragorn, King Obvious of Middle Earth! All hail King Obvious!

"Through fire. And water," Gandalf says, pausing to make it dramatic. "From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me. And I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as the life age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt light in me again. A voice said it was not the end. The voice said I had been sent back until the task is done."

"Gandalf!" Aragorn whispers.

"Gandalf?" Gandalf says, in a questioning tone. "Yes… that was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name."

"Gandalf," Gimli says, a grin splitting his face.

"I am Gandalf the White," Gandalf corrects. "And I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide."

Same old dramatic Gandalf.

* * *

When we reach the end of the forest – Gandalf assuring us the Merry, Pippin and Boromir were safe – Gandalf whistles, and it _hurts_.

"_Ow_, Gandalf," I whine. "Give me a warning next time."

There is an answering neigh, as a beautiful white horse comes running across the plains. The horse steps in front of Gandalf.

"That is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell," Legolas says, his voice in wonder.

"Shadowfax," Gandalf says, proudly. "He's the lord of all horses, and has been my friend through many dangers."

"He's beautiful," I breathe. "And so white. So pure."

Shadowfax nickers, happily. I pet him on the head. "You are a loyal horse, aren't you?"

I think Shadowfax almost grinned.

We tear across the plains, until sunset. The horizon is now a reddish, highlighted by orange. Middle Earth was much more beautiful than Earth with its natural beauty. The sun quickly dips, leaving the sky a royal blue, as if it was splattered water-colour paint. My eyes scan for Ophelia. I believe she is now in the stars, and she is the voice that Gandalf had heard.

"Ada?" I hear Legolas.

"Yes?" I say, not really paying attention. Where is Ophelia? I was almost sure she was a constellation. Why wouldn't she be? Her own name means _help_. She would always do that.

"I think I have found a constellation I have not seen before," Legolas says, and the words have barely left his mouth before I slam into him.

"Where?" I say, excited. Maybe it's Ophelia. No – it _has _to be Ophelia.

Legolas points up, and I see a figure. No, I see two figures. _Two_? One is Ophelia. I see her hair flowing back, as I connect the dots, I know she has a smile on her face. I just _know_. She wields a sword in her hand, her star eyes twinkling like I remember. The other figure is another person, a beard and a cloak? I cannot really tell, but I grin.

"Thank you, Legolas," I say softly. "Ophelia…"

"We all miss her," He says gently. "She is now happy, yet I have never seen someone rise and live in the stars."

"Ophelia was always in the stars," I tell him, I cannot tear my eyes away from her. "Her intelligence, her friendship, it was always so large. Her kindness. Her eyes were starry when they were happy. No, she was never not in the stars. She's just there physically, now."

* * *

*You're crazy! In French.

**Good. In French.

***Why. In French.

****May they find peace in death. In Elvish.

*****Something is out there! In Elvish.

******What do you see? In Elvish.

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

This was a really boring chapter, sorry about that. There just wasn't that much drama in this part of the movie. Apologies. And, I hope this wasn't too bad. Thanks for reading anyways.

Thanks to _Guest_. I can't believe I've been spelling _Pippin _wrong this entire time! Thanks, I'll spell it correctly now, like I did for this chapter. Have cookies for your observance.

Thank you to _RoxyGirl_ (Guest) for such kind words. Being naïve is awesome. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise, because they're just jealous. Keep being who you are. Have some cookies for your naïve… ness?

Thanks to _krupa360 _for favourite-ing my story! Cookies are awesome. Have the rest. Sorry, there's only two. I ate the rest. There delicious.

_FreeSpiritSeeker_, you are on a whole new level of epicness. Thanks for reading my story this far. Love you.

And for all the others that read my story, thanks, I love you all,

_BlueDaylighter_


	16. Chapter 15 - Adeline

Chapter 15 – Adeline

I climb back on a horse, I, being very comfortable on a horse, now. I still need to work on it, though, because when Gandalf caused a halt to the horses, I almost took a tumble back.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong," Gandalf warns us. Well, drat. I thought we could just flounce on over. "Be careful of what you say. Do not look for welcome here."

Well, that's a comforting thought. The horses gallop, over the fields, making us look at the ghost-town looking kingdom. When we reach the front gate, a flag sails through the wind, landing near Aragorn and Gimli. They shrug it off, but I now know how poor this kingdom is… and how great it once was.

We tread, carefully, on the road, suspicious glares, looks given our way. I shudder. What has this place become too?

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli grumbles, and I am sorely tempted to laugh, but I know of the grave situation at hand, so I bite the inside of my cheek and continue on riding.

We march up the steps, and we are approached by men. Soldiers (warriors, whatever at this point) stop us.

"Ah," Gandalf says. Weirdo, that man… er, Wizard

"I cannot allow you before Théoden king so armed, Gandalf Grayhame. By order of… Gríma Wormtongue," I can hear the distaste in the leader's voice. Who is this Gríma?

With a nod from Gandalf, we all grudgingly give our weapons.

"So much _breathe _on my bow," I hiss at the guy who was collecting my weapons. "I will slaughter you with your own sword."

I want to think I look scary, with my hair flowing back and my annoyed expression, but, with my luck, I looked silly. He nods, hastily, so maybe I did scare him. Just a bit.

"Your staff," The leader looks pointedly at Gandalf.

"Eh? Oh. No, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?" Gandalf says with his most innocent, old man look. I cover my chuckle with a cough. Gandalf. Old. My ass.

The leader gives Gandalf… an almost _knowing_ look and we are granted access into the castle.

Gandalf winks at us, and takes Legolas' arm for more 'support'.

We enter the dimly lit castle, the smell of… I am urged to say death, almost. We are trailed by guards, Gandalf keeping the old man act. The doors bar shut, causing a deifying clash of sound.

"He is not welcome," A snake like creature says. He is human, but his eyes are sunken in, his hair is a greasy black and he is deathly pale.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" The man – Théoden – says, like a puppet on a string. And… Stromcrow, that's a new one.

"A just question, my king," The… I cannot bring myself to man. The snake, and I will guess this is the oh-so-famous Gríma Wormtongue.

Gríma stands up, hunching. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news is in ill guest."

"Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind you teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" Gandalf says angrily. But wait… I thought a forked tongue is a snake. Not a worm. Gandalf, you may be wise, but… fine. A worm _can _be mistook for a snake. Whatever Gandalf.

Gandalf raises his staff, and Gríma gapped at it. "His staff! I told you to take the Wizards staff!"

Guards rush to us, fighting us. They do not wander near me. Do they think I am a prisoner? Well, hell no.

"Hyyy-YA!" I grunt, punching a guard on the face, creating a satisfying cracking sound. "Ow!"

Why do I have a feeling I have hurt more than him? Although, I grin but that moment does not last, as a kick (or punch) hits me in the thigh. Ow. That's going to leave a mark. As this is going on, Gandalf walks towards Théden.

"Théoden, Son of Théngel. Too long have you sat in the shadows," Gandalf states.

Gimli knocks Gríma down, and says in a warning tone, "I would stay still if I were you."

I give him a look of poison and look back at the king. I cringe. The king is almost as foul looking as Gríma. His sunken eyes are tinged with red and a disgusting yellow, his white hair is wild and his skin, so pale, from a distance you cannot tell the difference from the hair and the skin.

"Harken to me," Gandalf commands. "I release you from the spell."

I expect some sort of magical fireworks, or _something_, but all the king did was laugh.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey," Théoden wheezes. He continues laughing, and I almost hope he will choke and die.

Gandalf is fed up as well, as he shrugs off his cloak, revealing his blinding white robes. "I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound."

The king screams, and a beautiful woman enters, panicked, trying to get to Théoden. She is caught by Aragorn.

"If I go… Théoden dies," A raspy voice says. I take this is Saruman. I grab my non-existent bow.

"You did not kill me," Gandalf says, calmly. "You will not kill him."

Gandalf thrusts his staff at Théoden, he, flying against his own throne. "Rohan is mine!"

"Be gone!" Gandalf counters.

_And be ready for hell to come to your life_, I add, silently in my mind.

The king is thrown back, and the woman catches him. Colour slowly returns to Théoden's face.

"I know your face. Èowyn — Èowyn," He says, now fully recovered. Èowyn has tears in her eyes. And, I'm waiting for Théoden to kick Gríma's ass. He soon, does, launching him out the castle and rolling down the stone steps. By the time I am outside, next to Aragorn I hear a heart-shattering sentence.

"Where is Théodred?" The king demands. "Where is my son?"

Silence is the only thing that answers him.

* * *

Burying a man I didn't even know was horrid. Èowyn was singing, her voice cracking as Théodred's body went pass her. A silent, negative part of me asks;

_What if you actually knew the person who died?_

* * *

We are in a castle, two small children at a table. I crouch beside them. They are so innocent, so lovely.

"Where's mama?" The girl asks, her voice teary.

"Everything will be alright," I soothe her. "You're safe now…?"

"Freda," She answers me. "Freda, and he is Èothain."

"You are safe," I hush her and she continues eating. "Your mama is alright."

When I pay attention to the conversation at hand, there is a heated argument.

"I know what is that you want of me. But I would not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war," Théoden shakes. He is scared. I can see it in his eyes, but who, at this point, is not?

"Open war is upon you, whether would risk it or not," Aragorn tries to tell the king, but Théoden will hear nothing of it.

"When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan," Théoden says haughtily.

"When last _I _looked," I say under my breath, sourly. "We were not talking in third person."

Legolas sends me an amused look, but quickly focuses his attention on the three.

"Then what is the king's decision?"

We march on the plains, Èowyn and I, walking together. I cast a look at the deserted kingdom, as Théoden had decided we would go to Helm's Deep, wherever that was.

I hear Gimli talking about female Dwarves. "It's true you don't see many dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, they are often mistaken for dwarf men."

"How can you do that?" I ask, out loud. "I mean…"

I turn back, as Èowyn was doing, and Aragorn points at his beard.

"It's the beard," Aragorn motions, and I fight hard not to laugh.

"Is he kidding?" I ask Legolas, who was a bit ahead. "I mean, about the female Dwarves have beards?"

"No, he is not," Legolas says, a smile playing on his lips. "Though, I have not seen many Dwarf women."

"And this in turn has given rise to the belief that there are no dwarf women. And the dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!" Gimli continues. That's it. That's the last straw. I burst out laughing, clutching my sides. Ah, Gimli.

"Which is of course ridicule – woAH!" Gimli cries out. His horse had ran when he was unsteady, causing him to go crashing to the ground.

"Will he be alright?" I ask Legolas, worriedly.

"He shall be fine," Legolas answers me, smirking. "Dwarves have very hard skulls."

* * *

When we slow down to rest, Èowyn makes some soup. She hands me some, as I am famished, I put the hot liquid right down my throat. What I didn't know was that it tasted… I'm sorry, Èowyn, disgusting. I tried chocking the rest down, but ended up spilling most of it. I rush to Gimli and Legolas.

"Do-on't try the soup," I cough. "Tastes ho-o-rrible!"

Gimli and Legolas' eyes widen and hastily agree, Gimli refusing to Èowyn like I told him to. I try to warn Aragorn, but he has already accepted it. Shit.

_Dump it out! _I mouth desperately. _Don't – _

Too late, as I see Aragorn trying not to grimace.

"Mmm, it's good," He feigns.

"Really?" Èowyn says, her face lighting up. Great job, Aragorn. Now, say one wrong word, she'll tear up.

"Mmm," Aragorn says.

I snicker, bumping into Legolas. "Yeah, totally." I tell him.

Èowyn turns around, and I see Aragorn trying to dump the bowl's contents out. Èowyn looks back abruptly, making Aragorn right his bowl, spilling the hot liquid all over himself.

"My uncle told me a strange thing. He said that you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather," Èowyn says. "But he must be mistaken."

Aragorn tries to keep a stoic expression. "King Théoden has a good memory. He was only a small child at the time."

"Then you must be at least sixty. Seventy? But you cannot be eighty!" Èowyn gaps at him. I do too.

"What. The. Hell?" I say, and spin on Legolas. "Wait. He's telling all this to a stranger, and he never told _me _– who he's known for several months – that he could be my _great-grandfather_?"

Legolas shifts his eyes away from mine. "That is for Aragorn to answer, not I."

I turn my attention back to him, and he looks very uncomfortable. "Eighty-seven."

"You are one of the Dúnedain," Èowyn clicks. "A descendant of Númenor, blessed with long life. It was said that your race had passed into legend."

"There are few of us left. The Northern Kingdom was destroyed long ago," Aragorn says, forlornly, but there is a hint of steel in his voice.

"I'm sorry, please eat!" Èowyn encourages, and I see Aragorn looking very disgruntled.

I march over to him. "_Eighty-seven_?"

* * *

The next day, I find myself laced in a conversation with Legolas.

"What is Helm's Deep?" I ask him, curious. "Or where?"

"It is a large valley," Legolas tells me. "The valley is blocked by several hills in series called Helm's Dike."

"Wow," I mutter. "What original names."

"Also," Legolas continues. "It is in the north-western _Ered Nimrais_."

I give him a confused look, and he says the White Mountains. Oh. I have _no _clue what he's talking about, but okay.

"Wait…" I shush him to listen. "Do you hear something?"

Legolas turns sharply and we run ahead. I hear yelling. There is Háma under a… wolf/bear mixed creature.

"Shoot him!" Those words barely leave my mouth before the wolf/bear is shot and I shoot the scout, not before it doesn't cry out.

"Shit!" I exclaim, Legolas trying not to seem disturbed by my swearing. "What are those things?"

"A scout!" Legolas yells. He turns to me. "A Warg."

"What is it? What do you see?" A panicked Théoden says.

"Wargs!" Aragorn runs down the hill. "We're under attack!"

_Smooth_, I think, sarcastically. _Where's the calmness _now_?_

"All riders to the head of the column!" Théoden orders.

I rush up the hill again, trying to spot the number of Wargs attacking us. Legolas stands alone, trying to shoot down some Wargs.

"You should go to Helm's Deep!" He tells me, shooting more arrows.

"You wish!" I scream back and I look for a horse to jump on. Legolas grabs me by the arm and drags me up a horse. "Thanks!"

The Rohirrim riders and the Wargs clash at the same time, horses falling, good men dying… I do not feel anything but adrenaline pumping in my veins, as I shoot arrows. My ratio has gone up. 3:1. Every three arrows I hit, one arrow misses, though I am happy with that. I whip around, trying to get a bearing about what's happening.

"BRING YOUR PRETTY FACE TO MY AXE!" I hear Gimli bellowing.

Legolas is just shooting and hacking with his sword with his usual grace, and I am left to think; _Shit, I really need to get a sword, dagger, anything_.

As the fighting dissolves, I lash my head around, looking for Aragorn, finding Legolas and Gimli are doing the same. "Aragorn!"

"Aragorn?" Gimli repeats. He spots a dying – laughing – Orc, and points an axe at it. "Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing!"

"He's – " cough "– dead," The Orc cackles. "He took a little tumble of the hill."

"You lie!" Legolas says, anger rolling off him in waves.

The Orc laughs, blood bubbling in his mouth. I almost wince at the disgustingness but I hold my ground. He falls back dead.

"No!" I scream, grabbing him by the collar, ignoring how filthy he is. "You can't – TELL ME he is _not _dead!"

I stand up, and see Legolas picking up a pendant. I recognize it now. Aragorn always wore it. No doubt the Orc pulled it off his neck. I run over to the edge, almost giving in to momentum, but I balance out, looking at the great – freaking' – river below.

Théoden approaches us, and looks sorrowful. "Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead."

"Why you –" Legolas covers my mouth with his hand. "MM-hMM!"

I give him a glare but is falters when I see his sad expression as well.

"Come," Théoden says, he looking at us with pity.

* * *

I am hysterical, so I run, all the way to stupid, effin', Helm's Deep.

When I reach Helm's Deep, I immediately go to a small place, a stable I think. It is full of hay and I sit myself down, clutching both Ophelia's and my backpack, trying to search for a distraction. I lunge my hand into a backpack, trying to find something and I feel something soft, crinkly and thick. I take it out, discovering it is paper and from Ophelia's backpack.

_Oh goodie_, I think. _Something to rip up_.

But I halt as I see the words;

_My dear Adeline,_

* * *

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Dun, dun, dun. Finally, in the next chapter, you will see what Ophelia wrote for Adeline. Yay! So, I hope you guys didn't find that chapter _too _dull, I promise, the next chapter will be much more interesting! I hope… Okay, callouts!

Well… _Roxygirl _(Guest) I can assure she _is _dead, but she left something behind so her spirit lives. So, have some caramel… or anything left in my pantry… er, candy jar. Thanks for reviewing!

Hi again, _AbigailPeters_! Thanks for following, and reviewing, but I can't tell you. You have to find out in the next chapter. Hands out candy. Thanks for being so patient.

Thanks you, _FreeSpiritSeeker_! The reason behind it will be revealed in the next chapter! (There _is _a reason)

Thank you to _MoSassy23 _for following and favourite-ing my story! Love ya. I need to go bug my mom to buy me more sweets from Costco, so I'll just give you five bucks to buy whatever you want for now.

Thanks for all the kind reviews and for so much support,

_BlueDaylighter_


	17. Chapter 16 - Adeline

Chapter 16 – Adeline

I gingerly take the letter in my hands, afraid it might crumble into millions of shredded pieces. The paper is almost new, just a few crumples in it. There is ink smeared on it as I look at the letter more closely. The paper is very thick; about a centimeter as if it was a package, but my guess was that they didn't have any better paper here. My eyes drift as I look over the content, making myself more comfortable before I read it.

_You wanted a distraction, you got it_, My mind tells me dully. I open the letter and I begin reading.

_My dear Adeline, _

_So many emotions going around inside of me. Yes - I'm probably dead. Screw that I _am _dead. Look, I want to say I'm sorry. Sorry for everything. I know you don't know _anything _about LOTR and I don't either. _

"Wait, what?!" I exclaim, pulling back from the paper. I continue on reading.

_I'm here to tell (er, write) you the truth about me, about why you're here and all this stupid stuff that's going on. Where should I begin? Ah, yes. The beginning. Tell me. Do you remember anything? How we got here, how we just woke up in the Shire? Well, if memory serves you correctly, we got here by - quote and quote - things. _

My memory fuzzes, trying to remember that. Should I remember that? A memory swirls back, and a cute pixie like girl is in my mind. What was her name? Peachy? Penny? Peony. That's right.

_That's all fake. You'll remember all of it in time, of course, but right now, most likely, you only remember Peony. I'm here to explain it to you all, no matter _how _confusing it gets, it will become clearer in the future. Anyways, it is all fake. There is no Minerva, Peony or even cotton candy fluff world, sadly. Varda Elentári gladly lent us her home, as she is the queen of the stars. _

"What…?" I am completely confused.

_Let's just say Peony and I had fun decorating her castle. You were meant to come to Middle Earth, Ada, and not be stuck on Earth. You were _born _here. _

"What the _hell_?" I think, trying to vacuum all the information in. I _cannot _be born here! This world is crazy! No electricity, men riding on _horses_…

_To make this more… easier to understand, I'll go back from _my _past, so you understand it more. My father was once at a council of the gods. Manwë Súlimo asked for three emissaries to go to Middle Earth and only my father and Curomo stepped forward. He took Pallando as a friend. He was one of the Ainu and an important Istar wizard. He went to Middle Earth in the second age, with Pallando, and they became the Ithryn Luin, or the Blue Wizards. My father, in the third age, went back to Middle Earth, with four other companions. _

"Urghhh," I mutter. What the heck. I'm just going to choose to believe Ophelia's letter.

_Curomo, was Saruman the White. __Olórin was Gandalf the Grey. Aiwendil was Radagast the Brown. My father, Alatar, and his companion, Pallando the Blue. They were dressed in sea-blue robes, thus becoming the Blue Wizards. With Curomo, they set out to the west to free the last men that were rebelling against Sauron. Later, it is said in documents and scrolls, Curomo returned alone, leaving people to wonder what ever became of my father and Pallando. They did succeed in their task, regardless of any documents saying they failed, but my father met a She-Elf along the way. She had a child with her - you - claiming her dearest friends had borne you, and she had saved you just in time. Also, she was outcasted for reasons even I do not know, and my father took pity on her. My father, could take on any choice of appearance he wished, but his usual appearance was a man, about in his 50's. For the She-Elf, he was a handsome Istari, and soon, the She-Elf, became my mother._

"So Ophelia's half Elf. Bloody brilliant," I mutter to myself. "So I'm _freakin _from here?!"

_She was slaughtered in a battle soon afterwards, leaving me motherless so my father and Pallando took care of me. Elves, men and Dwarves have wondered if they became the founders of magical cults, but it was quite the opposite. They had stumbled upon Earth. There, they discovered that Earth was much more advanced in technology and such, so maybe that started the rumour that they started new magical cults. When we entered Earth for the first time, we discovered Earth's time traveled much slower. We returned to Middle Earth, going to the golden woods, as my father seeked out Galadriel. He came back muttering important, keep safe, I know Earth. _

My mind was spinning as I took this in. So, Galadriel already knew about us?

_We went to many places, which is not to be discussed, as it is very boring. Your parents were Wood-Elves, from Mirkwood, and I knew something important was about to happen. Later, I learned your father's name was Arbellason and your mother's name was Huoriel. The Valar told me you and I would have an important part to play in a quest, and would call me when the time was right. I was called about two years ago, and I told them about a fantasy world, with faeries and fluff. Irmo, god of dreams and visions, made up the illusion in your mind. When I returned to Middle Earth, roughly about 200 years had passed. My immortality from my mother gave me youth, but I still aged because of my father. _

"WHAT?!" I say, clutching the letter tighter. "You are _over _200?"

_The Valar had put a bit of an amnesia spell on me, to forget everything about this place , and let's face it. I'm a damn good actor, at least when we were in that fantasy world. When we were in Rivendell, I met Bilbo Baggins A.K.A J.R.R Tolkien. I questioned him about the LOTR series and he said, "What I hope will come."_

_So this answered my question about the LOTR series. They were all just a prediction. Most is correct, and I wondered if "Bilbo" had some contact with the Valar. Bilbo taught me to channel my powers abit, as they were showing, and soon I could warm myself up and move small objects. I recalled more and more memories, me going to Gondor, Rohan, Mirkwood… I never saw anyone important in a royal status, but I also discovered my father was gone. Where is he, Ada? I miss him. _

How could I effin know? I move on the next paragraph.

_Here I am in __Lórien__ and Galadriel told me my father was in the stars after he decided to leave this world. She told me I would too. If I died, that is. I miss him, Adeline. I miss my father, Ada. I just want to see him again, to hug him, for him to tell me everything will be alright. I think I may be falling for that man from Gondor, but no matter. I miss the old days, Adeline, and I miss you. When you were five, I took care of you like a big sister, but the roles soon changed. I'm grateful for that, Ada, so thank you, with all my heart. _

"Ophelia…" I whisper. I remember all the times she would act strange, avoid me, as she got back her memory. Hurt swells within me. Why wouldn't she tell me?

_I'm sorry for never telling you, Ada, please accept my apologies. At Earth, you weren't happy. You had no parents, only love letters in the cupboard I put there for you, though…. they were all fake. _

"So my life has been a lie," I try to compose my anger, but it is rolling off in waves.

_You can go back to Earth, Ada, or you can stay. The choice is yours, never forget. I love you, Ada, and I'll always look over you, no matter where I am, no matter how far away. _

_I'll miss you, _

_Ophelia, your best friend, forever and always. _

My hands are trembling by the time I finish this. I see a flower drawn on, an iris, I think, but my mind is too wrapped up in betrayal. I miss Ophelia, but all along she was this stupid half Stari thingy and Elf, and she knew _all _about it?! She knew about my parents and she never told me _anything._ There are tears smarting in my eyes as I cry, tear dripping down, creating stains on the last thing I have of Ophelia.

"Why, why, _why_?" I moan, trying to make sense of it. Why do I feel like this letter is not finished? "Why didn't you tell me?"

I need to get this out of my head, I need another distraction. I race out of the stables to find a crowd surrounding a man on a horse. I know that…

"Aragorn!" I scream, pushing myself through the crowd. He looks over at me, and grins, pulling me into a hug.

"Why you…" I start as I pull away from him, I pull a swift punch to the gut. I recoil. "Ow-w! What are you wearing? Steel armor?"

He smirks at me and I see Gimli yelling; "Where is he! Where is he! Get out of my way! I'm gonna kill him! You are the luckiest, the cunningest, and most reckless man I ever knew!"

"You aren't going to hit me with your axe?" Aragorn questions.

Gimli chuckles. "Bless ye laddie!"

"Gimli, Ada, where is the king?" Aragorn asked us.

He runs into Legolas, and I smile. Ah, at least two of our friends have come back from the dead. I follow him, asking Legolas, "Where is he going?"

"To the Keep," Legolas informs me. "To talk to the king."

"Well, c'mon," I motion him to follow me. "I'm not being left out of this."

* * *

"A great host, you say?" Théoden says, as we interrupt their conversation.

"All of Isengard is emptied," Aragorn says. That's not good.

"How many?"

"Ten thousand strong, at least," Aragorn states. My knees buckle. Ten _thousand_? We… stand _no _chance against that. My hands clench into fists, Ophelia would know what to do, but she's _dead_, and a freakin wizard thing.

"Ten thousand?!"

"It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men," Aragorn says, simply. "They will be here by nightfall."

Théoden looks weary. "Then let them come."

We walk outside, Théoden calling; "I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms, to be ready for battle by nightfall."

That was preposterous. Was he going to sacrifice boys? Boys who haven't even seen their 15th birthday? I see fear in their eyes.

"I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms, to be ready for battle by nightfall," Théoden continues. "We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the deeping wall or set foot inside the Hornburg."

"This is no rabble of mindless orcs. These are Uruk-hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad," Gimli protests.

"I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep," The king retorts, and I cross my arms.

"What?" I say. "You're going to let _boys _fight this war?"

"They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn, we've seen it before. Crops can be resown. Homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them," Théoden ignores me. But I see the understanding in Legolas' eyes.

"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages. They come to destroy its people. Down to the last child!" That last sentence by Aragorn sent shudders down my spine.

"What would you have me do? Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance!" Théoden argues.

That was it. I excuse myself, saying, "Erm, I'll help with provisions or what not."

I see sympathy in the air for me, but I do not appreciate it. I was growing prideful in this world. I want hope. Just some hope. I dig in my backpack for the scroll Lady Galadriel gave me, and it is still beautiful. Timeless. I open it, the same way I did to Ophelia's letter and I see a quote in scripted on it.

"_Don't lose hope. When the sun goes down, the stars come out," – unknown._

I look at it again, close it, and open it. A different quote is inked.

"_Hope is faith holding it's hand out in the dark," – George Illes._

I breathe in the aroma of the scroll. And I notice something I had not noticed before. It was in Ophelia's delicate handwriting.

"Excuse me?" I look down to see Freda. "I don't know your name."

"Ada, Freda," I say softly. "Why?"

"I picked these for you!" She grins impishly, "They're irises I think."

I look at the beautiful, purple, flowers in her hands. "An iris…?"

"It means _message_," Freda explains to me. "And my message to you is thank you!"

"A… message?" My brain whirrs. A message… Ophelia's letter had an iris on it. "Thank you, Freda. You're so sweet."

She smiles and flounces away. I retrace my steps as I slowly dig into Ophelia's backpack, searching for her iPod. "Where…"

I hit messages as I enter. Nothing. I sigh in frustration. Notes… Notes! I scroll down her notes until I find something labeled _Dear Adeline_.

Eureka!

I tap on it, and I find something saying _photos_. Jesus, Ophelia! I scrawl to photos and I find one photo. There is a home, barn, maybe, with the sun dipping making the silhouette of the barn black. In the caption it read, _Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts. – Oliver Wendell Holmes. __18__09 – __18__94._

There is a treble clef next to the 1809. Dammit, Ophelia. Just tell me already! Treble clef… treble clef… music! I click the music button, running to the stables, for some privacy. Which song though? Ophelia had effin' 200 songs and I am left here to go through each individual one. No… I'm not. 18… song 18! I count the songs.

"One… two… three… four…"

When I reach the destined song, I see the title. _Home is where the heart is – Lade Antebellum._ How fitting. That's all that Ophelia rambled on, anyways. I play the song out loud.

_I felt I was spinning my wheels_

_Before too long the road was calling_

_I packed everything I own_

_So sure that I was leaving this small town life behind for good_

_And not a single tear was falling_

_It took leaving for me to understand_

_Sometimes your dreams just aren't what life has planned_

_Mama said home is where the heart is_

_When I left that town_

_I made it all the way to West Virginia_

_And that's where my heart found_

_Exactly where I'm supposed to be_

_It didn't take much time_

_It's just south of the Mason Dixon line_

_It's just south of the Mason Dixon line_

_I worked third shift at an all night diner_

_Only stayed to save a little money for_

_Enough gas to make it to the east coast_

_That's when I saw the brightest pair of_

_Deep blue eyes walking straight into my life_

_And every night we talked till it became so clear_

_And I could feel those dreams inside shifting gears_

_Cause love brought me here_

_Mama said home is where the heart is_

_When I left that town_

_I made it all the way to West Virginia_

_And that's where my heart found_

_Exactly where I'm supposed to be_

_It didn't take much time_

_It's just south of the Mason Dixon line_

_It's just south of the Mason Dixon line_

_And I'm standing in my veil about to say I do_

_As mama smiles with tear drops in her eyes_

_And then I realize there's something mama always knew_

_Love is what I really left to find_

_Mama said home is where the heart is_

_When I left that town_

_I made it all the way to West Virginia_

_And that's where my heart found_

_Exactly where I'm supposed to be_

_It didn't take much time_

_It's just south of the Mason Dixon line_

_It's just south of the Mason Dixon line_

It's a good song, really, but I am left to wonder why Ophelia chose this song. I multitask to photos and find there is another 18 underlined.

_Eighteenth what?_ I think exasperated. _Syllable, paragraph, line, word? _

_Screw it, I'm just going with word,_ I think fed up.

_I felt I was spinning my wheels_

_Before too long the road was calling_

_I packed everything I… _

"I!" I exclaim. I am _so _glad no one can hear me. "Now, what the heck does that mean?"

I lean on the wall of the stable, sliding down, pinching the bridge of my nose.

_Calm down… one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine… I… _I think. My mind is on adrenaline. I am aware of everything, every clue, every detail. I is the ninth letter of the alphabet.

"Do I go to the ninth letter of the song?" I blow out air. I'm done thinking. Please stop this torture! Ophelia, I hate your guts.

_This is important… _A tiny voice says in my god-damned mind. _It's not that hard…_

"Says you," I grumble, but I list the possibilities in my mind. Song – I doubt it, but I check anyways. Photos? No. Only one. Notes? I check, but it's only a grocery list. The letter? My teeth bites my cheek in anticipation. I check the ninth word of the letter.

_My dear Adeline, _

_So many emotions going around inside… _

Inside. That's the word. That's the key word. Where though? My fingernails tear the letter a bit, and I gasp.

"Dammit!" I say. Can I do _anything _right? As my finger traces the hold, I hear a faint rustle. Inside. _Inside_. That's why the letter was so thick. It contained something. I rip the letter on the back, carefully, and out spills one bracelet and one necklace. They are beautiful.

The bracelet is a charm bracelet, with a note from Ophelia. I expected an apology for making me think so much.

_Hello, Adeline! Sorry I couldn't give this to you earlier, but who doesn't like a challenge? I trust you didn't take too long? Okay, good. I want you to know what the charms mean. The first one is the holly. It mean hope. The zinnia means thoughts of absent friends. _

_Blue salvia = I think of you_

_White clover = Think of me_

_Black Bryony = Be my support_

_Eucalyptus = Protection_

_Forget-me-not = Don't forget me._

_Globe Amaranth = Unfading love_

_Nightshade = Truth_

_Olive = Peace_

_I hope you forgive me, Adeline._

I look at the charms tenderly, as if they would break into shards. They were crystal, I knew that, and I slipped it on. I'll keep it forever. I study the necklace. It was made out of leather and the centerpiece was a crystal poppy. Ophelia's side note was tinged with smeared ink.

_Crush the poppy – you save one person's life. Keep it or gift it._

* * *

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Well, I hope that chapter didn't suck too badly. And _gasp _Ophelia's half Istari? Did any of you guys catch the subtle hints of her being one? Let me refresh your memories…

Chapter 8 - "Shit," I murmur to myself, another quill zooming to my hand.

(A quill _zooming _to her hand?)

Chapter 8 - As soon as we get to higher altitudes, a snow storm breezes in, causing me to warm myself with my own ways.

(No blankets or fire mentioned…)

Chapter 12 - I knew what Gondor looked like, I had been there, but I wanted to hear it from the great Steward of Gondor's son himself.

(When did Ophelia have time to go to Gondor?)

If anyone noticed those subtle hints, donuts to you! Awesome observation skills. I really hope this letter doesn't make the story _too _cliché. Anyways, thanks for the reviews!

_AbigailPeters _yes, candy can distract anything

_FreeSpiritSeeker _really hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.

_alexma _thank you!

_Roxygirl _(Guest) sorry, but… she is 18. I'll try to decrease it.

Brownies to everyone!

Thanks so much for all the support,

_BlueDaylighter_


	18. Chapter 17 - Adeline

Chapter 17- Adeline

My hands tremble as I place another helmet on another _boy's _head.

"They are simply much too young for this," I mutter quietly. Legolas looks at me with sad eyes.

"Tis true," He says. "We do not stand much of a –"

"Shut up, now, please," I plead, placing my hands over my ears. "Be _hopeful_ for once, will you?"

Aragorn and Gimli join us.

"Farmers, farriers, stable boys…" Aragorn says in a disbelieving tone. "These are no soldiers."

"Most of them have seen too many winters," Gimli agrees.

"Or too few," Legolas adds, looking at another boy, with a helmet on his head. "Look at them. They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes."

"Wow," I snap, sarcastically. "Cheery bunch, much? Have some _faith_, these people need it!"

"Umm, excuse me, my lady?" A blond boy says, timidly. "Are you going to give me my helmet?"

My face instantly softens. "Of course…?"

"Gyllon, my lady," Gyllon answers me, raising his head, revealing two light blue eyes. "Why my lady?"

"I cannot just call you 'The Boy' forever, can I?" I joke. "My name is Adeline."

"Adeline…?"

I didn't know why I was telling this stranger my real name, maybe it was because he had such an innocent look to his eyes. Maybe it was his fearful expression. Maybe it was my stupidity. "Are you frightened?"

Gyllon looks down at his feet. "Yes." He says quietly. "I fear I will never see my mother again, I will never see my sister again and I will die today. Is that cowardly, Lady Adeline?"

I look appalled. This boy had a _family_, and he was never going to see them again if he didn't survive. "Where is your father?"

"Somewhere in the lines," Gyllon says, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "But he is weak, my lady. He caught a disease about a fortnight ago, and is still healing."

I silently think for a moment. "Gyllon."

"Yes…?" He asks. "I – I do not need pity, my lady, I – I just…"

"No, nothing about that," I say, dipping my hand down into my pocket, and I feel leather against my fingertips. "I want to give you this."

My hands uncurl, and there is the poppy necklace that Ophelia left for me. The one that can save one person's life.

"No!" Gyllon exclaims, and a few stares are sent his way. He turns red. "I – I cannot take this. This is yours, and I –"

I shush him. "A dear friend gave it to me, Gyllon. I want you to have it. Crush the poppy and it will save your life once."

Gyllon looks at me, disbelieving, but I give him a smile and reach for his hand, placing it in and curling his hands over it. "Why would you give such a priceless thing to _me_?"

I truly didn't know. "I want you to live to see the next day, Gyllon. I want you to see your family. Live longer. Have a life beyond this terribleness." I gesture to around us.

"I – I… thank you my lady," Gyllon cradles the necklace in his hands, before putting it on. "I… I'll always remember you, my lady. And I'll make it up to you, somehow."

I smile gently and he runs away to receive his weapon. I turn around, trying to spot Gimli, Aragorn and Legolas, but I only see Legolas and Gimli. Legolas with a guilty expression on.

"Okay,_ spill_," I order. Something's wrong. That Elf never feels guilty. Or feels any emotions, really.

"Spill what, Miss Ada?" Gimli asks, gruffly. I roll my eyes.

"What happened?" I say, mainly looking at Legolas. "You _never _look guilty."

"Who said I was guilty?" He snaps and I recoil a bit.

"No need to get rude," I say, coolly.

"Erm…" Gimli look uncomfortable. "Let me check if there are any more spare… axes!"

He runs away. Typical Dwarf.

"Forgive me," Legolas apologizes. "I have said words I regret to Aragorn."

"What did you say?" I realize how blunt I sound. I backtrack instantly. "I mean, it's none of my business."

He smiles wryly at me and then his expression hardens as he sees the bow on my back. "You are going to fight?"

"Well… duh?" I say, matter-of-factly. "Wasn't that obvious?"

"No," He says, his voice still calm, but he's lost his cool expression. "No it wasn't."

"Well I am," I say, heat rushing to my cheeks for no apparent reason. "I thought you knew."

He grabs my wrist, tightly, making the blood circulate much slower, slowly turning my hand red. "You'll die."

"Well, thanks for the confidence," I say, sarcastically. "And I thought you were my _friend_."

"I am!" He says, with a sudden burst of energy. "You just… you can't even continuously shoot the bow!"

This rubs me in the wrong way. "Well, what about the other boys? What about them? They're _13_, basically. Do they know how to you a bloody axe? No. I personally think I'll be fine."

"Personally," My, isn't he determined? "Can you not just stay in Helm's Deep?"

I flush in anger. "No, no I can't. I promised to protect Frodo, even by fighting this battle. So don't say I can't go and fight!"

"You… please, don't," Legolas looks at me directly in the eye. "… For me."

I don't know what triggers me, but those last to words want me to give in and stay in Helm's Deep. My knees buckle a bit, but I hold my ground. I look down. Why does this bloody Elf (that I barely have a friendship with) make me so nervous?

I look at my feet. "I'm sorry. But I have to go and fight." I smile uneasily at him. "But… I need to work on my accuracy and consistency with my arrows. Care to help?"

Legolas smiles at me, and I think we might have a friendship going on here.

* * *

Legolas has been teaching me to shoot continuously, without stopping and without missing the target _too _badly. I'd like to say I wiped the floor on that, but, sadly, I still needed _a lot _of practice to come even _close _to Legolas' level.

_Thwang, thwang, thwang_.

The arrows hit the target, one in the 9 area. "Dammit!"

"Relax," Legolas soothes me. "You are doing fairly well."

I give a crooked smile. "Does that mean I'm horrible? Because I can see the annoyance in your eyes."

Legolas tries to deny it, but then gives up, shrugging. "Guilty."

I run my fingers through my hair, causing it to go wild. "Stupid hair. Legolas do you have a dagger – knife?"

"Why?"

"I want to cut off my hair," I answer, trying to braid it. "You know what? Scratch that. I can braid it."

I did a simple Katniss Everdeen braid and swing it over my shoulder, and look up at Legolas with a bit of a look of relief on his face.

"I thought you were really going to cut off your hair," Legolas tells me at my questioning look.

"Why would that bother you so much?" I ask him. "Wait, don't answer that. We should go to the castle… thingy."

The sun was going down and Legolas nods. "The Keep, you mean."

"Do I look like I particularly care?" I ask him, jogging to the keep... thingy. "A castle's a keep, a keep's a castle. Also, go apologize to Aragorn."

He had told me what he said. So, naturally, I told… er, ordered him to apologize.

"Of course, my lady," Legolas mocks. "What else would you like me to do? Polish your bow? Make your meals?"

I feign pausing to consider the options. "That would be nice… yes, very nice… let's just get to the bloody keep-what-cha-ma-call-it.

When we reach the Keep, we see Aragorn and Gimli already there. As I had ordered, Legolas apologized _really _formally (and, I guess sincerely) and Aragorn answered in that language I _still _can't understand fluently.

"If we had time, I'd get this adjusted," Gimli says, half-heartedly, and I see it is a chainmail armor, sinking down to Gimli's feet. "It's a little tight around the chest."

I chuckle as Legolas and Aragorn smile. Suddenly, I hear a horn? "Already?"

"No… that is no Orc horn," Legolas murmurs, as we make it out of the Keep.

"Why would they sound a horn anyways?" I wonder out loud. "Couldn't they just give a sneak attack?"

"Thank Valar Orcs are stupid," Legolas breathes.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together," A familiar voice says. Old… cranky… nagging, oh wait! That's Haldir. I mean, great, not at all cranky… erm…

We rush down the stairs, and I hear Haldir finishing his sentence. "We come to honor that allegiance."

After some very manly hugging, Haldir proclaims, "We are proud to fight alongside men, once more."

I _knew _you Elves weren't good-for-nothing!

* * *

We stand behind the wall, me silently counting the arrows in my quiver. 15. I look at the strapped dagger at my side. I would resort to that if I was given no other choice, was preferably not. I can slowly see Saruman's army forming in the distance, Orcs wielding torches and long spears.

"There… there are so many," I say quietly. I suddenly feel Legolas' hopelessly from before. How _can _we outlast this? Great. Now, I'm a hypocrite.

"_A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas!_"* Aragorn yells. I pick up 'mercy' and 'none'.

Rain is pouring down, blocking my visions a bit. Stupid rain. I slick the rain off my fingers, rain, slippery, me wondering if I'll slip at the most inconvenient time ever.

We notch our arrows, ready to shoot them at Aragorn's command. I hear a _thwang_. Crap! I look over, an old man looking scared. So _he's _the one. Everything is silent, as the Orc falls down dead. There is screaming, hissing and cries of outrage.

"_Dartho!_"**Aragorn commands.

The Uruk's roar in anger and start charging. My knees buckle and my hands start to sweat. Or is that rain?

"_Faeg i-varv dîn na lanc a nu ranc._" Legolas says.

"Meaning?"

"Their armor is weak at the neck and under the arms," Legolas translates for me. "Have you not learned Elvish?"

"_Leithio i philinn!_"*** Aragorn instructs. I see several arrows firing, and I do too. I think I hit one.

"Fire!" I hear another person shout.

More arrows are shot.

"_Tangado a chadad!_" Aragorn yells.**** More arrows fly, this time continuously, me gathering that, that meant continue shooting. Soon, the Uruks shoot back, and their aim is worse than most, but mostly, they missed. Sometimes, they shot fair, hitting a man, or Elf, and I winced with every time I hear a scream.

"_Pendraid!_"***** Aragorn warns. I hear clacks of the ladders, Uruks climbing up the walls.

"Good!" I hear Gimli shout over the battle cries of the Uruks.

_Where the hell is the good in this? _I thought, bringing out my dagger. I wanted to save up my arrows. Currently, I had 12. I slashed and hacked through the Uruks, getting nowhere near the amount Gimli and Legolas were at (sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen… crazy Dwarf/Elf) but I'd killed about 8, so far. Really, I wasn't sure. I was more worried about living then how much Uruks I've killed, but whatever floats their boat.

Adrenaline was rushing through my body, as I slashed more, occasionally bringing out my bow. "Ow!"

Something had slashed me, deep, but I continued fighting. My arm felt like it is on fire, my adrenaline running low now.

"_Togo hon dad, Legolas! Dago hon!_" Aragorn cries desperately. I see it now. There is a Uruk. He (I dearly hope it's a he) carrying a brightly lit torch. Why do I have a bad feeling? So, I do the impulsive thing.

"Kill him!" I scream, waving my arms. "KILL HIM!"

Legolas shoots two arrows into his chest, but he continues to run. I notch an arrow, shooting it, but it only catches him in the abdomen.

"Somebody!" I yell, desperate. "Shoot him!"

My attention is focused on the Uruk –

BOO-O-O-O-OM!

I am thrown into the air, my back arching. I try to land on my feet, but I fall on my knees. Ow-w-w-w….

My pants are torn and bloodied as I look over at the blown up section in the wall. Uruks are crashing in, through there, and I see Aragorn and Gimli down at the bottom and I can't just leave them there. I take a blind jump forward, landing on an Uruk squishing him with the force of gravity. I whip out my dagger as Uruks charge at me.

"Slash, roll, cut, stab…" I say, as it is implanted into my mind. Slash, roll, cut, stab, slash, roll, cut, stab, slash, roll, cut – _stabbed_.

My shoulder knows no feeling as it goes completely numb as I drop my dagger, falling to my knees. There is another Uruk, ready to stab me and I close my eyes. Maybe I'll die here. Maybe I'll see Ophelia again. Maybe –

_Whoosh_.

My hair flies back, loosening the braid as I peel open my eyes. What has happened? I whip my head around, trying to find the source, noticing there was a ten foot circle, around me.

"Miss… Miss Adeline," I hear a croaky whisper.

* * *

*Show them no mercy, as they will give you none! In Elvish.

**Hold! In Elvish.

***Fire! In Elvish.

****Keep firing! In Elvish.

*****Ladders! In Elvish.

******Legolas, stop him! Kill him! In Elvish.

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Hello, my dear readers! I hope you liked this chapter. I'll try to post chapter 18 tomorrow or the day after that. Well… I suck at A.N's so, let's get to the callouts!

_FreeSpiritSeeker_, _you_, my friend, should be in a five star restaurant. No, your cake is more delicious than a five star restaurant. Fifty stars, and thanks for reviewing. *Buys caramel, chocolate cookie*.

Hello, again, _Roxygirl _(Guest)! Thanks so much for the nice review. Do you want some caramel, chocolate cookies?

_AbigailPeters_, thanks so much. I wasn't sure of the storyline at first, but nonetheless I'm glad you guys like it. C.C cookies for you too! (Caramel, chocolate).

Thank you, _Gifi_, for following this story. Means the world to me that people like it. Have some C.C cookies!

_Silverfire _(Guest), thank you for your lovely reviews. I swear, whenever I see a nice review, I get an idiotic smile on my face. Your reviews made my day. C.C cookies?

Thank you to _ChibiFelicia _for following and favourite-ing! C.C cookies for you!

And, thank you to _MissBirdyx _for following. Have the rest of the C.C cookies.

And, thank you to all my other readers,

_BlueDaylighter_.


	19. Chapter 18 - Adeline

Chapter 18 - Adeline

I lash my head to the source of the voice, crawling over to the fallen boy. He has blond hair, and his side is bloodied and there is an arrow (poisoned, I am sure, as the flesh was turning different colours) near his shoulder blade. My heart sink to my stomach, crash landing, making me want to throw up. Please don't let this be…

"Gyllon?" I whisper quietly. It must be him. I recognize the blue eyes. "Please, what, why _–_?"

He uncurls his hand weakly, and I find a poppy necklace, now a dull red colour. Did he crush it to save _–_?

"I_ – _I to-old you, I'd ma-ake i-it u-up t-t-to you," Gyllon says, weakly, fluttering his eyes. "I couldn't let y-you die."

"You idiotic boy!" I yell, the safe haven slowly fading. "You were supposed to live!"

"W-would have been too late," Gyllon gestures to his wounds. "Y-you are an Elf. Y-you h-have a fi-fighting ch-a-ance."

"I gave you the necklace to protect _yourself_, not be hero!" I say, tears running down my face. "I should have died! I _–_ I…"

Words fail me as I see Gyllon holding up his hand. "I_ –_ I ki-killed f-four. Do you think th-that is enough to be a-a hero?"

"Yes," I say softly, lacing my fingers with his. "You killed more than I ever could at your age. You carried more bravery than I ever could. Gyllon, you are most _definitely _a hero."

His eyes shine, as the safe haven around me fades. I look around, trying to spot someone. Legolas turns, noticing my bloody shoulder, he mouths _Go!_

This time, I do not hesitate, picking up Gyllon, and I run deep into Helm's Deep, right into the Keep.

* * *

_Ironic, isn't it? _I think to myself dully. _The very thing that was _supposed _to save him, not you, couldn't save him, leaving him to die. Maybe if you didn't give it to him, he wouldn't have worried about you. _

I race into the Keep, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. The adrenaline and the super-Elf powers have worn off, and I think I am about to drop. My legs move sluggishly, nothing like a graceful Elf's, and I want to collapse. The blood has clotted for my shoulder, but it is still sore.

"Gyllon, please don't die on me," I whisper, running my fingers through his bloodstained hair. "You have to see your family again! I _– _I'm _sorry_."

"Don't be sorry, Miss… Miss Ad'line," Gyllon whispered out, having trouble pronouncing my name. "I am dying fo-or a goo-od cause. I am dying for something I believe in."

My heart crushes as he says _dying_. To me, he's saying; _I am dying because you were weak. You are nothing. That's why I am dying._ And… I cannot defend myself against that, because it _is _true. I am weak. I am cowardly. I let people _die_. Tears form in my eyes, but I scold myself.

_No more tears, Adeline, _I think. _Be strong. Be brave. Be everything Gyllon and Ophelia are… were._

I furiously wipe my tears away, scavenging for bandages to wrap around my shoulder and Gyllon's wounds, but for now, I rip off Gyllon's leather armor, and look at the wounds more closely. My heart sinks as I get the gut feeling he is not going to make it.

"Miss… Ad'line?" Gyllon clutches my hand, surprisingly strongly in his state of condition. "Thank you."

_For what? _I ask myself, as I try to tear up, but I can't. Maybe because this whole death was my fault. Maybe it was because there was no one to comfort me.

I watch, brokenly, as Gyllon shuts his eyes and his breathing slows. Breathe. Breathe… Breathe…. Nothing. I see his chest stop moving and I was too late. I know that much. Now, I have blood on my hands. My shoulder tingles, but shock is still too near. I look at the dulled poppy necklace, putting it on Gyllon. Only then do I realize a poppy means sacrifice.

* * *

My hands curl into fists as Gyllon is taken away, threatening if he didn't get a good burial I would kill them and place them in hell. Well, politely, of course. Because that's all _women _do in Middle Earth. I grab a horse and race out, trying to find the FOTW, well, at least half of it.

"Excuse me, sir," I ask a man. "Do you know where I can find Gandalf?"

"I think I may have saw him over there," The man points. "Why?"

"No particular reason…" I trail off. "Thank you."

My horse trots to a cliffside, and I see several figures on horses. "Care if I join?"

They look back at me, startled.

"What are you doing here?" Aragorn asks. I shift my shoulder so he doesn't notice the blood.

"You think I would be left alone?" I snort, lining up my horses with them. "Not a chance, buddy."

Aragorn gives a small smile and faces the redness in the horizon. It looks sinister and evil, as if it was hell itself. The again, it probably is.

"Sauron's wrath will be terrible, his retribution swift," Gandalf half murmurs to himself. "The battle for Helm's Deep is over. The battle for Middle-Earth is about to begin. All our hopes now lie with two little hobbits. Somewhere in the wilderness."

I hope Sam and Frodo are safe.

* * *

We find Boromir, Merry and Pippin sitting on a ridge, Boromir lazing back, smoking and Merry and Pippin discussing about The Green Dragon. Merry notices us.

"Welcome, my lords and lady… to Isengard!" Merry says, dramatically, spreading his arms. Boromir opens a eyes, looking content in the sun. He opens both eyes, widening, when he doesn't see Ophelia with us. He meets my eyes and I look down.

_She's dead_, I try to say, but my mouth is glued shut as Boromir hangs his head in defeat. Nobody take notice of this slight encounter between the two of us.

"You young rascals! A merry chase you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!" Gimli sputters.

"We are sitting on the field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is _particularly_ good," Merry says, a bit of mischief in his eyes. "Isn't Boromir?"

Boromir gives a half-hearted smile. "Tis true, Master Hobbit."

"Salted pork?" I can almost _see _Gimli licking his lips.

"Hobbits," Gandalf mutters, impatiently, under his breath.

"We're under orders from Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard," Merry tells us.

"Well, are we going or not?" I ask them. Merry and Pippen grin as they get on, Boromir sharing a horse with me.

"Is it true?" Boromir ask me, trying not to sound too crestfallen. "Did she… did she really pass?"

"If that means die, then yes," I whisper, trying to focus on going forward, not relieving all those bad memories.

"How were your adventures?" I ask, trying to change the subject. Boromir gives a sad smile.

"They were full of adventure, Miss Ada," He grins at me. "We rode on Treebeard, watching from up high."

"Ah," I frown as we enter flooded ground. "Just warning you, if I spaz, blame Saruman. He's the one who killed my best friend."

Boromir notices my shoulder. "What happened here?"

"Nothing," I tell him, trying to cover it up with my quiver, but I end up wincing. "Nothing too major. Just a little cut on my shoulder and arm."

Boromir grabs my wrist and pulls my arm back, looking at the deep cut. "This could get infected."

"Later," I insist. I will appear weak. "I'll get it checked later."

I hear a deep voice. "Young master Gandalf, I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there's a Wizard to manage here, locked in his tower."

I look around, uncomfortable. I see everyone else is as well.

"Show yourself," Aragorn says.

"Be careful; even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous," Gandalf warns us.

"Then let's just have his head and be done with it!" Gimli exclaims. I'm starting to like this Dwarf. Not that I already didn't. n

"You have fought many wars and slain many men Théoden king, and made peace afterwards," Says a voice from above – Saruman. I growl, and I am itching to pull out my bow and hoot him – even if I miss. "Can we not take council together, as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?"

"We shall have peace… when you answer for the burning of the westfold, and the children that lie dead there. We shall have peace, when the lives of the soldiers, whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows… we shall have peace," Théoden says, growing confident with every line.

"Gibbets and crows? Dotard!" Saruman scoffs. "What do you want Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess: the key of Orthanc, or perhaps the key of Barad-dûr itself, along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the five wizards!"

"Your treachary has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk, but you could save them Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's council," Gandalf reasons.

"So you have come here for information. I have some for you," Saruman pulls out a glowing sphere, and stares at it intently. "Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon."

My hands are twitching. I want this over and _done_. I place a hand on my bow.

"You're all going to die," Saruman sneers. "But you know this don't you, Gandalf. You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king."

My blood is boiling, and my fingernails dig into the palms of my hands.

"Gandlaf does not hesistate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love. Tell me… what words of comfort did you give the halfling before you sent him to his doom?" Saruman asks, and Gandalf looks down and sighs. "The path that you have set him on can only lead to death."

"I've had enough," Gimli says, fed up. "Stick him. Shoot an arrow into his gob."

Legolas reaches for an arrow, but I am already there.

"Ah," Saruman looks at me, dead in the eye. "Ada, isn't it? How does it do, knowing you could have saved your friends life? How does it feel knowing you could have done something? How does it –"

"Shut up!" I scream. I can't take it anymore. "Just… I can't take it anymore."

Saruman looks almost smug, but his face turns grim when he has faced Gandalf again.

"Come down Saruman, and your live will be spared," Gandalf bribes.

"Save your pity and your mercy; I have no use for it!" Saruman shoots a fireball to Gandalf, swirling him and Shadowfax. I back up, but the flames do not feel as hot as it should be.

"Saruman, your staff is broken," Gandalf says. Saruman's staff shatters in his hand.

From behind Saruman, a hunched figure appears. Gríma Wormtongue. I want to shoot him as well.

"Gríma, you need not follow him. You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan! Come down," Théoden coaxes, but Gríma just stands there.

"A man of Rohan? What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and rats roll on the floor with the dogs? Victory at helms deep does not belong to you, Théoden, horsemaster! You are a lesser son of greater sires," Saruman fires back, and I am growing uncomfortable in this position.

Théoden at first seems affected by these words, but he shakes his head afterwards. "Gríma, come down. Be free of him."

"Free?" Saruman drawls. "He will never be free!"

"No…" Gríma says.

"Get down, cur!" Saruman shoots a dirty look. He slaps Gríma, and he falls down. I almost wince in pity. Almost.

"Saruman, you were deep in the enemy's council. Tell us what you know," Gandalf tries again.

From behind, I think I see a shine from Gríma's hand. A dagger.

"You withdraw your guard, and I will tell you where you doom will be decided," Saruman says. "I will not be held prisoner here."

Gríma lunges, and stabs Saruman in the back twice. Legolas and I fire at the same time, hitting Gríma, who fell dead.

Saruman begins to hurl of the tower, flipping a few times before being impaled by a wheel. I recoil at the grossness. I'll admit, that looked _painful_. The wheel turned, sinking Saruman under… under… under.

"The filth of Saruman is washing away. Trees will come back to live here. Young trees, wild trees," Treebeard says, his expression as happy as it can.

I feel a grin splitting my face as well.

* * *

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

How was that? Sorry, it wasn't the best. Alright. Yay, thanks to…

_FreeSpiritSeeker_, thanks for liking that part. You too, _Roxygirl _(Guest) for liking that part. Cheescake?

And to _AbigailPeters_, well, think of it as a safe haven, clearing out Orcs in a circle formation. Sorry if you didn't fully get it. Cheesecake as an apology?

And thanks to all my other readers,

_BlueDaylighter_


	20. Chapter 19 - Adeline

Chapter 19

Corsets are _deathbeds_. I would rather fight more Uruks than wear this.

"Do you know what kind of dress you would like, my lady?" A maid asks me. "I personally think a green gown would look particularly nice on you."

"No, my lady's," I tell her, trying not to breathe out. Gods, and I thought I was pretty thin. "And a green dress… well, fine. What's your name?"

I try to slowly breathe in and out, but I just want to get out of this corset. The lacings are in the back so… screw whoever thought of corsets. I think I recall Ophelia saying something about corsets being awfully bad for you. Obviously Middle Earth people don't know that.

"My name is Hypia, my lady," Hypia is going through green dresses, which all look too pretty for my taste. Suddenly one catches my eyes.

"Hypia, can I wear that one?" I ask her, pointing to a simple silk, emerald green dress. Silver lined the edges of the dress, causing it to shimmer when it moved around. Well… at least it doesn't look _too _expensive. Okay, fine, it looked _way _too pretty for _me _to wear.

Hypia picks it up and looks at it. The bodice has intricate designs and it flows out nicely at the end. Hypia smiles. "I think this is the one, my lady."

"Ada," I say sharply. "Sorry, just not used to wearing things this pretty. Or addressed this formally."

Hypia laughs. "Truly, my la – Ada? I thought Elves had the finest garments."

"Well," I say, smiling crookedly. "I'm not like most Elves. I fight."

_And you're from another world_, A small voice chips at me. I thought I could shrug it off, but it nags me for a while. When will I get back? When can I go home? In Ophelia's letter, she said I had a choice. My eyebrows scrunch as I try to think this over, but by the time I finish thinking about it, Hypia is done my hair into a bun with a few fragments of my hair at the sides. I slip into my dress, Hypia helping me tighten it.

"What do you think?" Hypia asks me, softly, guiding me to a mirror. When I see myself, I gasp.

No dirt on my face, no grease in my hair, no torn clothes, no blood. I actually _feel _like a Disney Princess. And now I know I'm delusional. "Thank you, Hypia."

"My pleasure, Ada," She smiles mischievously. "I think I know where all the men's eyes are going to be."

"Maybe," I shrug, truthfully. "Maybe."

* * *

When I enter, three smells hit me. Ale, wine and smoke. Bloody – well, I shouldn't really expect any less. This _is _Middle Earth. When I walk, I try to avoid stares of people. I walk uncomfortably until I reach Merry, Pippin, Boromir, Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas were. They are all holding a cup of ale or wine. I don't even need to guess.

"Who is she, Merry?" I hear Pippin whisper to Merry. "She looks so pretty."

I find my face heating up after this comment and I continue walking to them, trying not to trip.

"That's Adeline, Pippin!" Merry hisses at Pippin, but his tone sounds doubtful. He adds; "I hope."

"Do I look that different?" I tease, bending down at the Hobbits. "Jeez, looks like taking three hours to get ready paid off."

"You're the prettiest Elf I've ever seen," Pippin says, looking at me in almost awe. "Or Hobbit. Or from the race of men."

I laugh, "You flatter me, Sir Pippin. You don't look half bad yourself."

Pippin blushes at the comment and drags Merry away, muttering; "Need some more ale."

I turn to face the other part of the FOTW. "Do I look that different?"

"You were always beautiful, Ada," Gandalf chuckles. I snort. As if. "Are you alright? Your breath is ragged."

"Oh, oh yeah," I squirm, trying to let the corset to loosen. "Stupid corset. Does _every _woman wear this? This is a _deathbed_. And I thought I was pretty thin."

Aragorn gives an amused look, and says; "Nay, not every day, but usually for celebrations. Royalty wear them often, though."

"I wonder how they manage…" I wonder out loud, but my head turns as I hear Théoden talking.

"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!" He says, and the crowd echoes him. Legolas and Gimli are lost from sight. I see Aragorn hesitate at first but he drinks his cup of ale.

I roll my eyes as I see Pippin and Merry already eating as much food as they can.

"No pauses, no spills," I hear Éomer say to Gimli and Legolas. What are they up to _now_?

"And no regurgitation," Gimli adds.

"So it's a drinking game?" Legolas figures it out. I dearly hope they know what they've gotten themselves into.

"Aye, last one standing wins," Gimli laughs, his red hair frizzing like crazy.

"What'll we drink to? Let's drink to victory! To victory!" Rohan men cheer and Legolas takes a tentative sip, while Gimli is like _Screw that_, and chugs his ale. I watch, amused, but also worried. My gut feeling is telling me Legolas will win. After about _–_ what? _–_ about twenty minutes, Gimli is by far winning in quantity, but Legolas is winning in sobriety.

"Here, here. It's the dwarves that go swimming with little hairy women," Gimli gives a drunken laugh as he grab another drink.

Legolas examines his fingers worried, "I feel something. A slight tingling in my fingers. I think it's affecting me."

Éomer gives Legolas an appalled look, but he continues drinking his ale.

"What did I say? He can't hold his liquor!" Gimli laughs again, and he goes cross-eyed. He falls off the bench, as stiff as a stick. I rush over to him.

"Gimli, dude, are you alright?" I ask him, trying to shake him awake. His breath smells like ale and his beard is covered in it, causing me to almost gag. Almost. "Idiotic Dwarf and Elf."

I glance over at Legolas and he looks smug. "Game over." He looks over at me. "Idiotic _Elf_?"

I shrug. "Your fault in agreeing to this stupid idea. I mean, who _chugs_, like, twenty pints of _ale_?"

"I never 'chugged' it," Legolas protests. "I simply _drank _it. There is a difference."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, totally. Oh, and how in the world are you not drunk?"

Legolas smirks at me and drawls out; "Elvish wine is much stronger. If I can drink that, I can drink anything brewed by the hands of men."

"Modest, much?" I question him, pushing through crowds of people. I hear singing. Merry and Pippin? "What is that?"

I get caught up in my dress, and trip over the hem, Legolas extending his hand out for me. "Bloody dress. Never wearing one _again_."

"I think you look quite lovely in a dress, Lady Ada," Legolas says, nonchalantly, picking his through the crowd. "You should wear one more often."

I feel a blush, but I quickly force it down when I realize he's teasing me. I mutter; "Whatever, and no _–_ never again. Never, ever, ever."

I can hear Merry and Pippin's song much clearer now.

"_You can keep your fancy ales._

_You can drink em by the flagon_

_But the only brew for the brave and true…_"

I am trying not to laugh at them as Pippin forgets the rest of the song, momentarily, and Merry has to call out to him.

"…_But the only brew for the brave and true_

_Comes from the Green Dragon!_"

I pull out a fuzzy memory about going to the Green Dragon, and all I remember is singing, smoking, ale and more ale.

Is ale all that people live for, here?

* * *

I remember taking off a dress, taking off a _corset_, and lying on covers before being waken up by screaming. Damn those Elvish ears! I remember getting up and somehow ending up a in a room, Pippin screaming bloody murder.

"What happened?" I ask Legolas, who looks confused before he spots the glowing sphere (that was once in Saruman's grasp) in Pippin's hands. "Take it away, take it away!:"

Aragorn snatches it away, but he throws it in surprise, landing right in my hands. Oh, damn.

"_What is this? Ah, Adeline Bronson…. who are you?" The voice is cold, hard and steely, yet the voice has sort of a commanding tone, making me want to spill everything about me, right then and there. My promise of being strong to Gyllon keeps me from bolting. _

"_Why should I tell you?" I ask him, shooting the question like cannon. I try to appear more confident than I am. "You already seem to know more than you should."_

"_Yes…" The voice muses. "I am… I am Sauron, soon to rule Middle Earth."_

"_Fat chance buddy," I snort and I clench my hands. "So, you're the dude who made Saruman kill my best friend."_

"_Indeed," His voice is almost gleeful, but then again, this is supreme Lord Evil. "I understand you come from a different world?"_

_I tremble and I shiver in fear. "How do you know that?"_

_The voice is amused now. "Did dear old Gandalf never tell you? He told Saruman, before he knew of his treachery and, of course, he told me."_

_I wonder why Gandalf never told me. Betrayal crashes into me, as I feel unsteady on my feet. "B-but…"_

"_I can send you home…" The voice bargains with me. "I can and will, you only need to tell me where the dear Hobbit with the ring is. Just one simple sentence."_

"_I can't, and I won't," I say, not sure of myself at first, but my confidence grows. "You can't make me! No. No! NO!"_

_The dream shatters as if it is a broken mirror. _

I open my eyes, finding daylight is hitting my eyes, making me recoil, fluttering my eyes to get rid of the dizziness. "What the heck happened?"

I find myself sitting on a floor, my back cracking slightly as it is very stiff. "And why am I sitting on a _floor_?"

Boromir gives me a hand to get up and I stretch. "Care to tell me what happened?"

"You held the Palantir," Boromir explained to me, while I was dusting off my clothes. "You saw something. You were screaming. It took all our efforts to hush you up."

"Well, why did I hold the bloody planty-thingy then?" I say. I remember almost nothing. "And why is it _day_? I specifically remember it being night."

Gandalf walks over to me, and his voice holds urgency. "Did you hear something? See something? Tell him anything?"

"What?" I shake my head. "I'm confused. All I remember is shattering, weird voices and home."

Gandalf looks frustrated. "When you touch the Palantír, you usually see something sinister."

I scrunch up my nose, trying to remember something, but my mind draws a blank. I shake my head dejectedly. "Sorry, Gandalf. I don't remember anything."

Gandalf looks half annoyed and half resigned and sighs, looking at Théoden. "We've been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the Palantír a glimpse of the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith."

Boromir's breath hitches, and he looks greatly worried. "Gandalf… my people!"

"His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing: he knows the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed; there is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-Earth uniting under one banner," Gandalf patiently explains. He gives a glance to Boromir. "Yes, Boromir, your people are in grave danger."

That's a hope booster.

"He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a King return to the throne of men. If the Beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war," Gandalf prompts to Théoden.

Théoden looks disappointed and completely screaming _unfair!_ in his mind. "Tell me… why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"

"I will go," Aragorn volunteers, but Gandalf immediately waves him down.

Boromir nods. "My people need me. My brother… my father."

"No!" He says, taking a step to Aragorn and Boromir.

Aragorn's calmness is ruined for a second, but he quickly recovers it. "They _must _be warned!"

"They _will _be warned," Gandalf assures them both, Boromir closing his mouth. "Follow the river and look to the black ships. Understand this: things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith."

Gandalf takes a side glance at the Hobbits. "And I won't be going alone."

* * *

Wind is streaming through my hair, me wishing it was still in a tight bun. I am running to the armory, trying to find a decent sword for me to use. I needed to practice with one.

"Where are you going?" I halt and slowly turn around, finding Legolas standing behind me, smirking.

"I need to practice with a sword. There's no such thing as an endless quiver of arrows, smart one," I say in a _duh _voice. "And I'm defenseless without my arrows."

"Would you like me to teach you?" Legolas offers. "I could lend you one of my swords."

"N-no," I stutter, examining the armories' swords. "I don't want to seem as a liability."

"No need, my lady," I can tell Legolas is smirking again.

"Is this a damsel in distress situation?" I ask him, touching a sword, trying to find a good one. Too heavy. Then again, everything is heavy for me. "Because really, I need to find a sword first. All these swords are too heavy."

"They _are _made for men."

Oh. Whoops. I turn to him once again. "Do you have any swords I can use?"

Legolas seems to muse this over. "There are some Elvish swords… maybe we could find you one of those."

"Cool, that would be great, thanks," I say, racing over to him. "I need a lot of practice. Just a warning beforehand. I suck at sword fighting."

I did improve. I _improved_. I could last about thirty seconds instead of three! Achievement earned! My shoulder still tingles, because I didn't get it checked yet. Whoops! Or my arm. Dang, I'm really forgetful, aren't I?

"I've got to go," I tell Legolas. "I need to get my arm and shoulder checked."

"Pardon?" Legolas asks, curious.

"Nothing, just some injuries I got in the other battle," I say, lifting my sleeve. There is a thin scar on it. Wait, _what_? I knew I was an Elf, but wounds do not heal that quickly. "What…?"

"Ada, is there something wrong?" Legolas asks, his voice tinged with worry.

"No," I say hastily, trying to run. "I've got to go."

I leave Legolas standing, wondering what he did wrong.

* * *

_Will save one life_, rings through my mind. The necklace must have healed my wounds more quickly. Gyllon had figured it out. He could've lived. _He could've lived_.

I want to cry, but tears won't come. Maybe it's because it's completely your fault. And you're all alone.

All alone, by yourself.

* * *

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

Well, how was that? I hope it wasn't too bad. Callouts.

_FreeSpiritSeeker_, you always make me feel so good about myself, and you're always the one who will read my endless (slightly boring) chapters to the end. Thank you so much. I baked some muffins. Would you like to try some?

_AbigailPeters_, I was EXACTLY like you. I was like YES when I reached that part. Homemade muffins?

_Roxygirl _(Guest), thank you so much. I will 'keep it up' and I intend to be like that until the very end. Muffins? I'm nervous about them…

Thank you for favourite-ing _WolfsongDarkforest_! Muffins?

Also, thank you to _Blacklinedeyes _for favouriting as well. Would you like some of my muffins?

And thank you to all my readers,

_BlueDaylighter_


	21. Chapter 20 - Adeline

Chapter 20 - Adeline

My fingers numbly search for weapons, to put on my saddle, but _–_ eventually _–_ I just give up.

"What's your name?" I quietly murmur to the horse. It is beautiful. "Are you a she or a he?"

The horse neighs when I said she so I took it as an answer. "You're so beautiful, you know? You look tough enough that whatever you do, you won't make a mistake. Like Ophelia. What's your name?"

"Her given name is _Celeg_," Legolas says, coming out of nowhere. "It means swift and agile."

I took another look at Celeg, and she nickers while I pet her head. My eyes dip to my feet. "Did you hear me?"

"No," Legolas says, with a face of pure innocence. "I heard nothing Ada."

"Cut the crap," I snap at him. "You've got fancy Elf ears. And you were, like, ten metres from me. You have to have heard what I said. You know what? Whatever. Chances are, I'm going to die."

I try to swing up onto my saddle, but Legolas grips my wrist. Again. "Is there something you want?"

"You left earlier," Legolas briefly explains to me. "Is there a reason why?"

"No reason," I say, hurriedly. "I just needed to do something quickly." I try for a weak smile. "Also, my shoulder… was bothering me. Had to get it checked."

Legolas frowns, but he nods slowly. "Of course." I don't think he believes me.

"Don't you have to ride with Gimli?" I ask him, trying to lighten the mood. "You guys are, like, best friends forever, now."

Legolas tries to look disgusted, but he eventually gives up. "We… we are no longer enemies."

"Mhmm…" I muse, making sure the saddle was secure before climbing up. "I totally believe you. Now, shoo. Go find Gimli. We have to ride to Mini something. I bet Boromir is excited."

"He is," Legolas agrees with me. "He is."

* * *

By the time I am ready, many other men are on their own horses, and we are ready to ride. I see Merry trying to get a shorter white horse to move.

I laugh. "Having trouble, Merry?"

He grins sheepishly and quietly says, "Help, Miss Ada. I'm not sure what to do."

I bring my horse over and stroke Merry's horse. "Trot for your partner, for I do not believe men are the masters of your kind."

I know it was formal, but hey, anything to help Hobbits. Sure enough, the horse trots at the same pace as the other men's horses. I rear Celeg to Gimli's and Legolas' horse.

"How are you?" I smirk, looking at Gimli's distaste. "We must ride our horses to Mini Tiring!"

"I believe it is Minas Tirith, lass," Gimli tells me. "And why cannot I have my own steed?"

"You're vertically challenged, Gimli," I explained to him. "Well, at least here you are. If you were to ride on your own, we would need to give you a pony, which would be too slow, or a very small horse, which could not carry very much weight."

Gimli frowns. "Are ye calling me…?"

"No, no!" I say, hastily. "I mean you carry so many weapons, and armor… you know what I mean!"

Gimli huffs, but he accepts my explanations and grunts, "Let us go to Minas Tirith. I am lusting for battle."

"How can you lust for battle?" I echo him. "It's horrible. All it is, is death and pain."

"Aye, lass but anything to stick my axe into an Uruk Hai's jacksie."

* * *

We stop for a break, the sun still far from the horizon. This sucks. And blows. I jump off Celeb and take my bow and arrows, and dagger. I need to clear my head.

I walk off in the west, some men calling me to come back, but I silently shake my head. I sit on a rock, while the sun is reddish, orangish, bathing me in a pool of gold. I close my eyes, trying to think of happy memories. All I can think of is sacrifice, death, pain, and it all trails back to me, somehow.

Soon, the sun dips, leaving me surrounded in a cool blue, me shivering back to the campsite. My bow is strapped on my back, and I hear some people conversing.

"Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?" I hear Legolas' amused voice. I halt in my tracks, deciding to eavesdrop. I can't help it. These are my friends.

"Might as well accept it," Gimli says. "We're going with you, laddie."

"Yes, I too," I hear Boromir agree. "I will help you. Anything to help save my homeland."

I decide to make my appearance. "Where are you boys going?"

They all turn to me, shocked. "You've grown better at walking like a true Elf."

"Elf, shm-Elf," I dismiss. "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere _–_"

"Oh, shut up," I snip, cutting him off. "I'm going with you. No arguing about it. If the other Elf is going, I am. I've made it this far without dying."

Aragorn smiles faintly. "Are you positive, my lady? It is quite, as you say it, _creepy_."

"Whatever, I've dealt with far creepier," I say. "It can't be _that _bad."

* * *

"Why did you drag me here?!" I exclaim, trying not to look too frightened. "This place is creepy."

Aragorn has a dry _I told you so _smile on and he trudges forward. "There is no one to blame except for your own foolhardiness, Lady Ada."

Screw him. "Where are we going? You _still _haven't answered me."

"A cursed army," Legolas tells me, frowning.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I jest not, my lady," Legolas says, sincerely. "Long ago the Men of the Mountain swore an oath to the last king of Gondor, to come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them, never to rest, until they had fulfilled their pledge."

"That's…" I search for the right word. "Harsh for Isildur, but I don't really pity the army."

"Who shall call them from the grey twilight? The forgotten people. The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the north shall he come. Need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead," Legolas continues.

"Please stop," I say, covering my ears. "Stop the freaky business. Are you doing this on purpose?"

Boromir gives a small smile and has a knowing look on his face.

"What?" I demand. He chuckle and strides right behind Aragorn.

We approach a door, adorned with skulls, making my breath hitch, and making me scared.

"The very warmth of my blood stole away," Gimli says, saying what I was thinking.

"What do the hieroglyphs say?" I ask, curious.

"_The way is shut. It was made by those who were dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut_," Legolas reads.

"Never mind," I say quickly. "Never read more freaky stuff again."

Wind and noise come from the door, flinging my hair around. I hear a neigh and the horses rear and bolt, leaving us in the dust.

"Brego!" Aragorn shouts, but the horse pays him no attention as he runs away. Aragorn scowls. "I do not fear death!"

He enters the bloody cave.

* * *

"What is it?" Gimli questions, watching Legolas and I squint in the distance. "What do you see?"

"I see shapes of men and horses," Legolas informs them, and I can see the faint outline of them as well.

"Where?"

"Pale banners like shreds of cloud. Spears rise like winter-thickets through a shroud of mist. The dead are following. They have been summoned," Legolas tells Gimli.

"Jesus, who died and made you the narrator?" I mutter under my breath, but forgetting Elves had super hearing Legolas heard.

"The Dead? Summoned? I knew that. Very good. Very good. Legolas!" Gimli says, sarcastically. Just a tad.

"Yes," Boromir agrees, dryly.

Gimli runs to catch up with us, some misty shapes getting in our way, Legolas Aragorn and I brushing them away, while Gimli huffs, pushing them away. If this wasn't such a dire situation, I would laugh.

"Don't look down," Aragorn warns us, and I instinctively do. It takes all my efforts not to scream. Bloody _skulls_.

We run into an opening, a staircase, green and slimy ahead of us. "Eww…"

"Who enter my domain?" A figure appears, his face worse than Wormtongue's, gaunt, shallow eyes and a bony face. It was also pale, and see-through, making me see through him.

That's just plain disgusting.

"One who will have your allegiance," Aragorn says, bravely.

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass," The ghost says.

"You _will _suffer me!" Aragorn exclaims, but all the ghost does is cackles. He sweeps his arms and a ghostly kingdom appears. Dead soldiers walk out, encircling us, me slowly walking backwards.

"The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it," The ghost repeats; "The way is shut. Now you must die."

I was tempted to yell, _aren't you cheerful?! _but I bit my tongue. The ghost approaches Aragorn and Legolas and I shoot, him shooting at his head, me shooting at his chest. The arrows sail past him, leaving me to gape.

_Dammit! _I scream in my mind. _How stupid can I get? He's a bloody ghost!_

"I summon you to fulfill your oath!" Aragorn commands in a strong voice. He draws a sword I have not seen before, and defends himself from the ghost.

"The bind was broken!" The ghost snarls.

"I has been remade," Aragorn says, his tone hinting to a matter-of-factly tone. I almost snicker. Almost. Aragorn shoves the ghost back, and says; "Fight for us, and regain your honor. What say you?"

He surveys the dead soldiers and repeats, "What say you?"

"You waste your time, Aragorn! They had no honor in life, they have none now in death," Gimli says darkly. Aragorn takes no heed to this.

"I am Isildur's heir. Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled! What say you!" He says, this time with a bit of anger.

_What's wrong with, 'What do you say?'_, an unimportant part of my mind asks me.

The ghost smirks and laughs as the other dead soldiers fade.

"You have my word! Fight, and I will release you from this living death! What say you?" Aragorn tries again, this time, his voice falling to despair.

"Stand, you traitors!" Gimli growls.

"Come back, you jerks!" I add.

The ground shakes, causing me to stumble. Skulls flood out like a tidal wave, through the breaking doorway.

"Out!" Aragorn screams to us. Oh, run we did, but the skulls almost overtook us. "Legolas, run!"

I tread through the skulls, trying not to be disgusted, but I ignore the crunches of the skulls. We quickly exit.

Aragorn falls to his knees, despairingly. Boromir puts a hand on his shoulder. A loud sound is behind us, causing us all to turn.

"We fight!" The ghost exclaims and I feel a smile.

"Yes! I could kiss you!" The ghost glares at me. I backtrack. "But I highly doubt you would enjoy that."

* * *

Ships approach the shore and I see ugly pirates on board.

"You may go no further!" Aragorn says. "You may not enter Gondor."

A man gnashes his teeth. "Who are you to deny us passage?"

"Legolas, fire a warning shot past the bosun's ear," Aragorn says calmly.

Legolas prepares to fire, Gimli warning him, "Mind your aim!"

As Legolas fires, Gimli knocks Legolas' bow, causing the arrow to hit a pirate square in the chest. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or bad.

"Oh!" Gimli says. Legolas shoots him a disbelieving look. "That's it. We warned you. Prepare to be boarded."

The pirate laughs. "Boarded? By who and whose army?"

I shoot a pleading look to Aragorn. He sighs.

I give a Cheshire grin and proudly smirk; "This army."

The ghost runs through Aragorn and his soldiers follow him. The pirates yelp in terror, recoiling.

"Is it awful that I love seeing this many men suffer?" I ask them, a bit worried.

"If it is awful, I am being awful and horrible with you, Miss Ada," Boromir grins. "I haven't seen such a beautiful sight in many winters."

* * *

"There are plenty for both of us! May the best Dwarf win!" Gimli exclaims gleefully.

"Hey," I grin, feeling an adrenaline boost. "Don't count me out!"

"Wouldn't in a million winters, lass!" Gimli laughs.

And we charge, my dagger out, the dead army behind us, and us fighting to the death, grinning like little children.

"One… two… three…" I count, shooting and hacking at more Uruk Hai's.

"Eight, nine, ten," Legolas says quickly. I groan. I will _never _be able to compete with them. We fight towards the city, the army of the dead helping us get by and by.

I lash my head around, my hair going crazy and I scream. "Legolas! What the eff' is that thing?!"

Legolas comes to my side, and he surveys the animal. It was like a giant elephant, saddled with dangerous, pointy things.

"A Mûmakil!" Legolas says, his face actually worrying.

"Mummy what?" I ask, trying to decipher his words while fighting.

Fourteen… Fifteen… Sixteen…

I hear a heavy thud behind me, and I turn, Legolas grinning triumphantly, and Gimli sputtering; "That still counts as one!"

* * *

The fighting ceases and I am grinning. I only have a few bruises and other than that, I am unscathed.

I notice Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli talking to the ghost. Where is Boromir?

"Boromir?" I say softly at first, but tears well in my eyes. This cannot be happening. "Boromir!"

Legolas quickly rushes over to me, "What is wrong?"

"Where's Boromir?" I ask, running, trying to find him, hopefully unscathed.

"Ada…"

I know that tone of voice. "No, don't tell me."

I run over to him and immediately drop to my knees, looking at Boromir's wounded body. "You idiot! Boromir, don't die! I can't lose any more people I care for!"

Boromir smiles weakly. "I – I… I cannot fight any longer, Ada. These wounds are too grave; I am already on my pass to death."

"Don't talk like that," I say, tearing off a piece of my sleeve to stop the blood flowing out. "We'll cure you."

Boromir shakes his head, as Aragorn comes. "I hope I have done this Fellowship good service. Even if it is only half of it."

I give a bitter smile as he attempts a weak joke. This only reminds me of Ophelia's death. "Please don't leave us."

Boromir closes his eyes, his breath slowing. I knew he was going to die, yet I, being naïve, had a small ounce of hope. Hope that would get me nowhere.

I lean over, and whisper to him, "Say hello to Ophelia, will you?"

Boromir smiles and I relax, clasping his hand. "I will, Ada. I will."

Watching his chest slowly stop, I place his hand on his chest. He has a smile on his face as he is claimed the same way Ophelia is. In the stars. I do not question how, but I have a feeling Ophelia has something to do with it.

A moment like this almost makes up for the dreadful loss.

Making the bitter, bittersweet.

* * *

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note **

I like this chapter. It's been a long time since I've been satisfied with one of my works, but I think I should be proud of this one. I hope you all liked it.

_FreeSpiritSeeker_, I sympathize the pain Adeline's going through. And you are one awesome person, and the chocolate torte was delicious. I've got apple pie. Wants some?

_Roxygirl _(Guest) I love you, I really do. You're review made me smile and I thank you for giving me the quote. I love it. Apple pie?

Thanks to _ksklus _for following, though this story is almost done, as most Tolkien fans know. Thanks for the support. *Gives a slice of apple pie*.

Thanks for reviewing once again, _AbigailPeters_, and I'm saying she's alone because she is the only one there from Earth. She didn't really think of it before, but now that she does, it hits her hard. Sorry for the confusion. I have apple pie. Would you like some?

And thank you to all my readers, for journeying into my fanfic this far,

_BlueDaylighter_


	22. Chapter 21 - Adeline

Chapter 21 – Adeline

I bite my lip, nervous at the outcome of this 'council'. Éomer was with us, and I discover that Éowyn had been wounded and is in the House of Healing. Aren't Middle Earth people grievously blatant?

"If Sauron had the ring, we would know it," Aragorn says, sounding tired.

"It's only a matter of time," Gandalf says. "He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping."

"That's bloody brilliant," I sigh, frustrated. "Do we have to fight another friggin' battle?"

"No, _you_ do not, but we will," Legolas says, as if that's obvious.

"Hey! I didn't mean that!" I glare at Legolas. "I'm just tired of all the death. Not all of us are super powerful Elves, you know. Note that I said super powerful." I add, seeing Éomer's expression.

"Let the Orcs stay there," Gimli says, his voice fierce. "Let them rot! Why should we care?"

"Because now ten thousand Orcs stand between Frodo and Mount Doom," Gandalf says, and he actually looks worried, concerned, like a real grandfather. "I've sent him to his death."

If you put it like that… That's pretty depressing. "What's it with you men being hopeful than depressing the next? Jesus, Middle Earth men are so bi-polar!"

"I suppose that is a insult, Miss Ada?" Aragorn assumes.

"At this point, everything Ada says is insulting," Legolas agrees.

"You guys are terrible friends," I sulk. "And I thought we were close and happy."

"Silence!" Gandalf snaps.

"There is still hope for Frodo," Aragorn says. "He needs time, and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth."

"Time…" I muse. "We can give him that."

"How?" Gimli says, eagerly.

"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate," Aragorn explains to us.

"We won't be able to that without full out battle…" I sigh.

"Not for ourselves, but we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us," Aragorn explains. "Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"A distraction," I say, the same time Legolas says, "A diversion."

"Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?" Gimli says, cheerfully. Note the sarcasm.

"Sauron will suspect a trap," Gandalf warns. "He will not take the bait."

"Oh," Aragorn says, smirking. "I think he will."

What's he up to now?

* * *

"Tell me about Mirkwood," I demand. "I'm bored."

"It used to be called Greenwood the Great, but as Sauron's rule overtook, sinister beings became common in Mirkwood," Legolas smile forlornly. "I wish I could take you there, there is still much beauty, just hidden in the shadows."

I smile, looking at the sun, still blazing in the sky. Funny how at noon and morn the sun is not out, yet comes out – just in time for the sunset. "I want to show you something."

"Oh, lady Ada?"

"Watch," I say, mysteriously, pulling the scroll Galadriel gave me out of my backpack. I open the scroll, Ophelia's delicate handwriting scrawling across the page. Ophelia's obsession for quotes really pays off, doesn't it?

"'Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places, where other people see none' by… Camille Pissarro?" Legolas smiles. "How true those words are. Lady Galadriel gave this to you? Truly, it has been graced by magic."

As the sun goes down, creating a blaze across my face, making me shield my eyes. "I love Middle Earth."

"I do too, Lady Ada," Legolas says quietly. I rest my head on his shoulder, and he puts his head on mine. "I do too. So much natural beauty in some places where you would expect to find none."

Legolas wraps an arm around my waist, as the sun dips. As the sun disappears from the horizon, I am left with a pleasant, tingling sensation in my stomach, and I am wondering what it is caused by. Beauty? No, I've never felt this before. Happiness. We're going to war. Enough said. Hope? I've already felt it. It does not feel like this. A crush?

…

If it is, I don't really mind it. Thank god it's on Legolas. I would freak if it was Gimli.

* * *

We reach the Black Gate, me wondering silently where the ten grand Orcs were.

"Are you sure, Sauron will take the bait?" I hiss at Aragorn. "This is ridiculous."

"I am positive, lady Ada," Aragorn confirms.

"Where are they?" Pippen asks, hopelessly confused.

I lean down to him. "If it makes you feel better, I have no idea what's going on, either."

Aragorn spurs his horse towards the Gate, and Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Éomer and I follow him.

"Let the lord of the dark land come forth!" Aragorn commands. "Let justice be done upon him!"

The door creaks open, making me shudder. A single rider comes, riding a dark horse. The only parts visible of the rider is his armor, helmet and a grotesque mouth, baring it's yellow, blood-stained teeth.

Toothpaste? Toothbrush? Mouthwash? Floss?

"My master, Sauron the Great, bids you welcome. Is there any in this rout with the authority to treat with me?" The voice creaks and hisses. That explains the ugliness. He's serving Sauron. If this wasn't such a crucial situation, I would probably flee from the ugliness.

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed. Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return," Gandalf says in a powerful voice.

The mouth sneers. "Old Greybeard. I have a token I was bidden to show thee."

He holds up a mithril shirt. Frodo's shirt. I grab my bow and notch and arrow, ready to kill this thing. He tosses the shirt to Gandalf who catches it. No. Frodo… he can't have failed! He can't have died!

"Frodo!" Merry chokes out.

"Silence!" Gandalf commands, an eye shining Merry.

"No!"

"Silence!"

"The halfling was dear to thee, I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did, Gandalf. He did," The mouth laughs, wickedly, making me feel sicker and sicker with each passing moment.

"Shut up, shut up," I whisper. I glance over to Legolas, who has his eyes widened in fear. He leans over and squeezes my shoulder.

"No, do not believe his words so hastily," Legolas comforts me. "Have hope."

"Easy for you to say," I snap. "I'm not as skilled. There's a BIG chance I'll die, Legolas. At leasted your skilled."

"I will make sure you live to see the next day," Legolas says, solemnly. "Whatever it takes."

I relax my bow, as Aragorn casually rides over to the creepy mouth of disgustingness. With a quick, hard, smooth swipe he beheads the mouth, or as Middle Earth people say it; "Off with your head!" Or is that only on Earth?

"I guess that concludes negotiations," Gimli mutters, sarcastically. I send him a sharp look.

"Not right now, Gims," I reproach him.

"Gims?" He scoffs, offended.

"I do not believe it!" Aragorn says, clenching his teeth. "I will not."

My head raises, as I see the oh-so famous eye of Sauron. It turns to us, the eye blazing as the Black Gates open, revealing marching Orcs, all dressed in suits of black.

"Pull back, pull back!" Aragorn calls at us, and we return to the army of men.

"Hold your ground! Hold your ground," Aragorn addresses us, a group of unsettled men and me. "Sons of Gondor! Of Rohan! My brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me!"

I shift, looking at the Orcs in fear, but I also see Aragorn, brave and leading us. All of us. Maybe to the death.

"A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends, and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day," Aragorn declares, wind brushing our faces. "A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends, and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day."

"An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down, but it is not this day! This day we fight!" Aragorn exclaims, raising his sword. "By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

The soldiers draw their swords, and I grip my bow, trailing an arrows' feather. I have dismounted, with my friends, and I put the arrow back. Instead, I take a dagger – which I am fairly good at, now. The army of Orcs have encircled us. We were outnumbered, and this reminded me of an archer's target. We were as small as the bullseye and they were as big as eight to four.

"Never thought I'd die fighting side by side with an Elf," Gimli says, gruffly. He looks at me. "Two Elves."

"What about side by side with two friends?" Legolas smiles.

"Aye, I could do that," Gimli says, and he grins. Best friends forever – I totally called it.

Aragorn looks back at us, none of the two armies moving. He says serenely; "For Frodo." He charges, yelling. The army of Orcs scream bloody murder as they come to us. Before Legolas rushes off, I grab his wrist. He looks at me, questioning.

"If I don't make it," I say, fleetingly, and I go up on my tip-toes and give him a kiss on the cheek – just before I race off – most likely to my death.

* * *

I fight, as if it is a fast-paced, lethal dance. I am used to switching to my bow when I'm fighting with my dagger. I hear something and I look quickly at the Black Gates, the Nazgûl descending. Bloody brilliant. I turn back, fending off Orcs, some getting really close. Bird cries are heard, shadowing me, for a small moment.

"Eagles!" I hear Pippin cry, gleefully. "The Eagles are coming!"

I fight my way to Aragorn, who is sized up by Mr. Ugly. "A troll! Another – freaking – one?!"

"Yes!" Aragorn says, engaging in a fight with it. I grab my bow off my back and start shooting arrows. I feel something grab my by my waist and it flings me up, sending me crashing to the ground. For a brief moment, my mind goes blank – black – and I am reminded how I am not going to die. I will not die. I will not forget Gyllon's sacrifice for me.

For _me_.

A foot crashes down – at the speed of light, it seems – and I am reminded that it is a troll's foot, waiting for it to crush me. I look for my dagger, it being almost out of reach, and I grab it, ready to make my possible last stand. I stab the dagger, right in the troll's foot, him screaming in agony and I heave myself up, and I stagger a bit, still dizzy from the near death experience.

"Ada!" Legolas says, desperately, holding my waist to support me. "Please, get up, we have not yet won."

I rest an arm on his shoulder, and I shake my head, trying to get rid of the dizziness. "I'm fine… I can fight."

Legolas shoots me a worried look. "No! You…" He realizes I cannot escape. We are surrounded. A death trap.

I give him a dry, weak smile. I must have looked terrible, face caked with mud, hair bloodied, clothes torn. "I'll make it. I promise."

Legolas nods and he shoots arrows, fighting back to back with me. This, evidently did not last long, and we were soon, once again separated, but not too far away.

"Stupid – bloody – Orcs!" I shriek but my scream is not the only one. My eyes are led to the blazing Eye of Sauron, flickering off – the way a lamp does. Everywhere, fighting stops, Orcs look back at the Eye and flee back to Mordor, knowing they have lost. They have lost.

My eyes shine, feeling like crying from happiness. The Eye diminishes, and the tower crumbles… falls… cracks… and I can hear it crashing from here. As the tower falls, a shockwave is sent out, brushing out dust, sending my now loose hair free. A cheer raises up, and I know I am cheering the loudest. The grounds where the Orcs are, crumbles, like a giant sinkhole, stopping right at the edges of our lines. The Black Gate collapses, sending Sauron's army down with them. I carefully aim and I shoot an arrow, right at a fleeing Orc, and I smirk at myself, self-satisfied. But something dreads in with this happiness. Frodo. Sam. Mount Doom explodes, killing the remaining Nazgûl. Does this mean Frodo and Sam are dead as well? I hear cheers, from the army of men, but I am focused solely on Merry's screams.

"Frodo! Frodo!"

The remaining FOTW look ashen, and even Aragorn looks like he is going to cry. My throat burn, like I am trying to swallow a full glass of lemon juice. My eyes glisten with tears, but I see Eagles swooping down on Mount Doom, and I think I see Hobbits, grasped in the Eagles talons. They are safe. _Safe_, and so are we.

I make my way to Legolas, beaming, "We won!"

He grabs me by my waist, spins me around and places a sweet, soft kiss on my lips.

* * *

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

I hope you guys liked that chapter! :) I have realized that this fic is nearly at it's end, and I plan on writing, maybe, two, three more chapters, before this fanfic comes to a close. Thanks for reading this chapter! Okay, call outs. I have chocolate fudge. :)

_AbigailPeters_, you're absolutely correct. Call me terrible, because I'm saying this, but in the end, no one can truly beat death, and it just felt _right _in killing Boromir. Argh, now that's out of my system, please don't hate me. Fudge?

_FreeSpiritSeeker_, yes, brilliant. The torte was delicious. Hope you like fudge, and thanks for the review.

_Roxygirl _(Guest), your reviews always bring idiotic smiles to my face. And I knew apple pie was your comfort food because I'm magical! No, I'm kidding – that's Ophelia. Thanks so much – fudge?

Thank you to _SimplySupreme _for following! I've got fudge for you. :D

Thanks to _moonlight33_ for favourite-ing. It means so much. Here's some fudge. C:

And thank you to all my other readers out there,

_BlueDaylighter_


	23. Chapter 22 - Adeline

Chapter 22 - Adeline

"Where's Frodo? Has he woken up yet?" I demand, as I charge to the door that the FOTW are standing at, bar Gandalf and Frodo – of course. "Where is he? I'm going to kill that reckless Hobbit!"

"And where were you?" Gimli asks. "I would think you would appear much sooner, your affection for that Hobbit is grand."

I feel my cheeks tinge pink, a bit, as I remember sitting in my room, sorting out the shock from Legolas' kiss. "I was in my room, seeing if Ophelia had left anything else –"

I stop, discovering I had said too much. "I mean…"

"Lady Lia has left something behind?" Aragorn asked. "Why didn't you tell us?"

My cheeks flush even redder, as I take the letter from my shirt pocket. "Here, I… I wasn't ready to tell you guys, and… and I thought you would think I was crazy. Crazy from grief, that is."

Aragorn takes the letter gingerly, just like I had when I had first discovered it. "This is Ophelia's letter?"

"Yes," I say, looking down. "It's a little hard to believe at first but then you realize how true it is. How many signs there were."

Aragorn scans the letter, and shakes his head before passing it on to Legolas. He opens his mouth, almost gapping. "Ophelia… an Istar? Alatar… I would have never have guessed."

"What?" Gimli grunts, as he tries to look at the letter, but because of his height, that proves impossible. "Give me the letter, laddie!"

"Alright, Gimli," Legolas says, his jaw set. Why's he so… agitated? "Is there anything else we should know?"

"You wouldn't believe me," I say quietly. "You wouldn't."

"Tell us, lass, what has burdened your mind for so long?" Gimli persists. "You are – to put this lightly – a bit strange. Your clothes, the style of the way you fight, the way you don't understand Elvish and how you swear worse than a drunken Dwarf."

I stare at him, as I narrow my eyes. No offense to Gimli, but he hasn't shown that much knowledge in the whole adventure. "Have you been conversing about me behind my back?"

"We were never technically behind your back, Miss Ada," Gimli pointed out, getting all smart-ass on me. "We were simply talking while you were sleeping, in front of you."

"That's not the point, Gimli," I snap. "What have you talked about me?"

Legolas gave an almost nervous laugh. "Nothing, Ada. You seemed a little off as an Elf."

"Why thank you, Legolas," I say, sarcastically. "And I thought you were good friends."

"You are straying from the fact, Ada," Aragorn reprimes me. "Is there something you want to tell us, that you didn't share before?"

"I – I –" I stutter before Merry and Pippin interrupt me.

"Frodo's awake, Merry!" Merry exclaims, happily. "I can hear and Gandalf talking!"

"What are you waiting for, then?" Pippin says, but he is already charging in the room.

"Pippin!" I struggle to say. "They might be still… talking."

Why does no one listen to me? Gimli shrugs, and – waving his arms – enters the room. Aragorn gives a small hint of a smile, and enters as well. Before Legolas enters, I catch his hand and we walk in, holding hands. I don't know when I became such a sap for romance. When we enter, Aragorn raises his eyebrows.

_Shove off_, I mouth at him, shooting him a venomous look. _I will personally kill you._

I give a dazzling smile to Frodo. "How are you, Frodo? Are you alright?"

Sam enters behind me. Why was he giving Frodo a knowing look? Did something bad happen?

* * *

"Hello, again, Ada," Arwen greets me. "Tell me, where is Ophelia? Is she in her room?"

Are all Elves the same? I put on a pained smile. "She… she died."

Arwen gasps. "I am so sorry, Ada. I hope you feel better."

"Yup," I laugh, trying not to sound too bitter. Talking about it still made me feel like I was rubbing salt into a wound. "I had a whole pity party."

_Get over it_, My mind says harshly. _She ain't coming back._

"Why are you here, Arwen?" I ask instead, trying to drown out the screaming in my mind. "I thought you went to on a boating trip."

Arwen practically glows in happiness. Then again, all Elves have this kind of ability. "I'm going to Aragorn. I'm staying with him."

"That is epic, Ars!" I beam at her. "You finally realized how perfect you were for each other!"

"I shall need to help you as well, Ada –"

I interrupt Arwen. "It's Adeline. Call me Adeline."

Arwen smiles softly. "I need to help you as well. Can you be a bridesmaid?."

"Me?" I say, shocked. "But – but, I can't, there are fully more capable Elves!"

"Oh no," Arwen grabs my wrist. Bloody hell, my wrist will be broken by the end of today. "You are perfect. Come, help me pick a dress. You need to pick one as well."

* * *

This is how I ended up having fun with Arwen's hair, several hours later. I thought her hair was beautiful, just the way it was.

"You don't need anything, Ars," I had started to call her. "You're beautiful. Maybe we could wave it, just a bit more at the ends…?"

Somehow, we managed this and got a circlet from Elrond.

"We'll save this for last," I announce. "Let's go get a dress. Maybe a light green one. Yes, that would look extravagant on you."

By going through millions of dresses, we finally picked the perfect one. Simple, elegant and long. Arwen made it look so much prettier, though.

I lace up her corset, complaining, "How do you stand this? I feel like I am going to die in one of these."

Arwen laughs. "Don't worry, Adeline. I feel like I am about to burst as well – yet we are not supposed to talk about it like that."

"Screw it, why do I care?" I murmur darkly. "I feel like I am on a death bed in that thing. Why do you Elves have to be so bloody perfect?"

I have a feeling Arwen was rolling her eyes. "Adeline, let us get you a dress. You have to look perfect for the day, just as much as I do."

"Um, why?" I ask her, dumbly.

"What is the chemistry between Legolas and you?" Arwen says, her eyes sparking. "Did you kiss? And when?"

I gape at her. "How did you…? How do you…? Is this another Elf-y power I'm missing out on?"

"No, I am just guessing," Arwen says playfully. "Now, we need to look nice for his big day, do we not?"

* * *

Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Corsets. Going to die.

"Not… so… tight!" I wheeze out. "Please, Arwen! Not… not helping! Corsets… are my doom… "

Arwen gives me a disapproving tut. "Pick a dress, Adeline, or I will do it for you."

"You… do it," I say, out of breath. "Pick out a… a nice one for me."

Arwen disappears for a while before coming back with a nice, lilac coloured dress, simple, elegant and long like hers. "Is this good?"

I nod, and let my hair flow down loose. "It's fine, Ars. Thanks so much. Can't wait until the wedding…"

Arwen beams.

_Is bloody over._

* * *

Today, Minas Tirith was filled with people, and here I was, right at the front, almost getting teary eyed.

Gandalf places a silver crown on Aragorn's head. "Now comes the day of the king. May they be blessed."

Aragorn turns to address the crowd of his subjects. "This day does not belong to one man but to all. Let us together rebuild this world… that we may share in the days of peace."

We applaud politely and I catch the eye of Éowyn. We smile at each other and I wink at her, while she blushes profusely.

Already over? Good choice, he's cute, I mouth at her.

The Elf, Éowyn shoots back. Don't tease.

"_Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta_,"* Aragorn sings, and I grin wildly.

Aragorn is greeted by Éowyn and Faramir, first, king Éomer is next. He then comes to us, and Legolas and Aragorn put their arms on each other's shoulders.

"_Hannan le_,"** Aragorn thanks him. He turns to me. "Thank you."

I pout. "I can understand simple words like that, you know. Aren't you going to give me a hug before… well never mind, then."

Legolas and I step aside, to show Arwen and Elrond appearing, Aragorn appearing wonderstruck. Elrond motions Arwen closer to him and I mouth to Aragorn, _Kiss her already!_

Aragorn turns a light, light, light shade of pink, but he pulls Arwen in a gives her long, deep kiss. I must admit, a few tears did fall down.

"Aww, they look so happy together," I coo to Legolas. "This is the most beautiful day of my life."

Aragorn and Arwen make their way to the four Hobbits, bowing awkwardly.

"Ten bucks he'll bow to them," I gamble with Legolas. He shakes his head no.

"I will not underestimate your skills, Adeline," He gives a smile. "I do not wish to lose everything."

Soon enough, Aragorn announces, "My friends, you bow to no one."

Aragorn followed by everyone else, bows, like a giant wave. I grin, lacing my fingers with Legolas'.

* * *

For a few months, we stayed with Aragorn and Arwen. They welcomed us and I steadily got better and better with a sword. Finally. Gandalf stayed as well, surprisingly, claiming he now had much time to search for a way to get me home. I knit my eyebrows in concentration. Did I really want to go home? A few months ago, yes, but now…

"Well, what's up, guys?" I ask. We are in the room where we had our mini council, which seemed like yesterday. I was still debating in telling them I was from another world. Right now, everything was so content and peaceful, I didn't want to ruin it with a bombshell. But… I had lied to them. So, I decided to suck it up and just tell them – no matter how much they will hate me in the end. "You guys I forgot to tell you this, but –"

Gandalf comes in the room briskly, and he walks over to me. "Adeline, I have found a way to get you back to Earth."

"What do you mean Gandalf?" Legolas tilts his head, confused. Crap. "Are you not mistaken for Middle Earth?"

I sigh. Well, even great and powerful wizards have their slip-ups. I suck in a breath and say in a tiny voice; "I – I'm not from this world."

Aragorn and Arwen turn sharply to me and Legolas looks at me shocked. "Pardon?"

"I – I meant to tell you, but it slipped my mind," I continue in a small voice. "I really didn't think I was going back, and I tried to tell you guys on several occasions, but I – I always got interrupted and – and…"

I blink back tears at the looks of betrayal shown to me. Gandalf interjects.

"I told her to keep quiet of this," Gandalf says, in a smooth voice. "It is not her fault in anyway."

Arwen and Aragorn relax, but Legolas is still in his rigid position.

"I have found a way to get you back, Ada," Gandalf continues from where he started off. "The spell appeared, right in front of my eyes, as if it was hidden from my sight for so long."

I nod, a tight smile on my face. I flashback to Ophelia's letter.

_You can go back to Earth, Ada, or you can stay. The choice is yours, never forget._

"When do I have to leave?" I ask. Legolas looks betrayed and I understand, but the desire of going home is too great. I am selfish. I am cowardly. "When…"

"Tonight," Gandalf says, lightly. "Right at 1900."

I meet Legolas' eyes again, as he turns away. Guilt tingles in my body.

"Alright," I say, softly. "May I be excused?"

Aragorn nods, but when I turn around, Legolas is already gone.

* * *

"I'm sorry," I apologize once again. "But I – I…"

I am out of excuses. Legolas picks up my hands and shushes me. "I am the one that is supposed to be apologizing. I should support where you wish and desire to go. But I will always remember you."

I swallow back a lump, hard. "I… I will too, Legolas. I won't ever forget you. I promise."

*Out of the Great Sea to Middle Earth, I have come. In this place, I will abide, and my heirs, until the ending of the world. In Elvish.

**Thank you. In Elvish.

* * *

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

How was that? I hope I wasn't overly sappy with Adeline, but I think she deserves a break. Also, I've changed my story image to Adeline and Ophelia – how I imagined how they would look. The sketch is a bit rough (I'm not the best drawer) but it's what I imagined them to be. This does not mean this is the only way they can look, but it is simply what I think. Alright, callouts.

_AbigailPeters_, I totally see the ship name, I love it. :) I made some chocolate cake. *Hands over a plate* Thanks for reviewing.

_Roxygirl _(Guest), I, also, hate people looking sad. Love your quote. I have one. Ahem.

_When life gives you lemons, get sugar, and discard the lemons, because seriously? Sugar is way better. _

How was that? Thanks for reviewing, chocolate cake?

_FreeSpiritSeeker_, coconut cake is delish. Thanks so much. Now, do you like chocolate cake? Thanks for reviewing. :)

And thank you to all my other readers out there,

_BlueDaylighter_


	24. Chapter 23 - Adeline

Chapter 23 - Adeline

My hands shake as I pack everything I need. I toss the two backpacks, carelessly as I look over at the charm bracelet Ophelia gave me. My eyes trail to the zinnia and I remember it symbolized absent friends. I look out the window, judging it to be about two. I wanted to go to sleep, before going back to Earth. I slam my back onto the wall and slid down, hugging my knees. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath.

* * *

_Dream;_

Stars. Is this what space looks like? It's beautiful, I can understand why Alatar and Ophelia like it here. Cosmos, planets, stars, meteorites are shimmering past me, creating arches and a perfect place. Can I breathe? I suck in a breath and quickly try to see if I could move around. I glide, as if I was a water bird in water.

"Beautiful place, no?" I hear an amused voice behind me. My heart thuds. Could it be…?

"Ophelia?" I ask, finding it hard to breathe, all of the sudden. "Is that… is that really you?"

Ophelia has trademark grin and blue shirt on, her eyes mischievous. "Yours truly. You look stunning in a corset."

I race to her and give her a hug. I pull away from her and stare at her, intensely. "A friggin' wizard?"

Ophelia grins sheepishly. "I'm sowwy, mommy."

I roll my eyes. "Honestly, though, why didn't you tell me?"

At that, Ophelia looks guilty. "I – I wasn't ready. Anyways, I'm sorry for giving you the crappy letter. I should have done it in person. So here I am."

I hug her tightly again. "Jesus, Lia, I was shocked that Aragorn was 87, but – you – over 200?"

Ophelia blushes. "Oh, shut up. I heard you were going back to Earth."

"Well, yeah."

"What about Legolas?" She challenges.

"Have you been literally stalking me?" I counter, trying to stray from the topic. "I would think you would have better things to do. Like hang out with your dad."

"Unfortunately, no," Ophelia sighs, deeply. "I've been watching you since day one. Do you remember anything?"

"Should I?" I ask, confused. Ophelia presses her fingers against my forehead. Memories swirl past me. Peony, Minerva, cotton candy world.

"That… that was real?" I ask Ophelia. My eyes sweep to the floor, and I realize I am floating – zero gravity. "I can't believe you are such a bloody good actress."

"I know, right?" Ophelia grins at me. "I should be even more wildly known than Edward Cullen!"

I laugh, and I look over at a blazing star. "Is that the sun?"

"Mmmm," Ophelia hums, and she floats towards a planet – Earth. "You seriously going back?"

"What can I do here?" I shrug effortlessly. "Cause trouble? Practice with swords? Wreck the remaining FOTW's life?"

"FOTW?" Ophelia cocks her head.

"Oh," I say, embarrassed. "Something I made up during the trip to the Mines of Moria. The Fellowship of the Walking, instead of the Fellowship of the Ring."

I smile, fondly, at a memory. A thought jars me. "Hey, Lia, if I go back to Earth, will I forever have pointy ears?"

"I'm pretty sure you won't. It's your Middle Earth appearance and it shouldn't affect you anyhow in the mortal world," Ophelia notes. "Oh… I've got to go."

"Already?" I demand. "I've barely seen you for ten minutes are now you're like, 'Hi, bye,'?"

"Trust me, Ada," Ophelia sighs. "If I could stay, I would, but I can't. I shouldn't be even able to talk to you."

"Well… bye," I say, swallowing another large lump. Hell, give me a break. I have to say goodbye to my friend. Twice. "Maybe… maybe I'll see you again?"

"I'll try my hardest," Ophelia nods. She turns, and a giant, bright, white light is emitting from behind her, the colour of a fluorescent lightbulb. Where did that come from? "Oh, and Adeline?"

I jerk my head towards her. "Yeah?"

"Don't dismiss my 'rambles' as nothing," Ophelia tells me, and I blush scarlet. "They actually mean something."

My friend is consumed by a light – forever in the stars. Happiness.

* * *

I wake up, startled, as I look over at the window, surprised to find the sky a nice amber. Damn, I didn't miss the portal – did I?

I sling the two backpacks over my shoulders and run out the door. I run into the big hall, and I bump into Arwen.

"What time is it?" I ask her.

Arwen looks surprised to see me. "You have not left already? It is close to 1900, Ada. Ten minutes, nothing more."

"Thank you, Ars!" I smile, and I give her one last hug. "I won't forget you. Thank you for everything. The dress. The friggen corset. I've never had a happier experience. Thank you."

Arwen smiles, softly. "I, too, Ada. Go. You should not miss that portal of yours."

"Oh, yes," I run off, trying to get outside in time and I make it, five minutes to spare. "Gandalf! I'm not too late, am I?"

Gandalf looks at me. "Nearly, Adeline Bronson! I would think you would be more punctual! When I chant this, the portal will open for five minutes. That should be sufficient enough, I hope?"

"Yes, Gandalf, thanks," I thank him, and I try to compose myself. "Earth…"

I hear Gandalf chant strange words, and a swirling, milky-way like portal is suddenly in front of me.

"Go, Ada," Gandalf says, in a concerned tone. "It will not last forever."

He was right. The portal was about twelve feet in height and three feet in width, but now, it was slowly shrinking.

I remember what Ophelia said.

_My ramblings actually mean something._

What had she rambled about? Home. Home is where the heart is, to be precise. The song, the quotes, everything. Why had she said those thing? She knew home was on Earth – didn't she?

A tiny voice fills my head.

_"If home is where the heart is, wherever you are is home," - Author Unknown._

I take a look at the rapidly shrinking portal, and the castle behind me. I look up, seeing faint stars, now.

"Thank you," I whisper and I run.

* * *

Looking back into my past, I had never been happy, never at peace, never felt like I was at home. I was an oddball from the start and Ophelia and I supported each other, me hunting food to survive as soon as I knew how to. I was always scared that one I would starve to death, and no one would miss me, mourn for me. Nobody loved me, back then. Nobody except Ophelia. She always had my back, no matter what scenario. Through thick and thin. Now, she's gone.

"My god, I am such an idiot," I whisper to myself. How could I have had such crazy notions?

As I step on white steps, I bump into Aragorn.

Aragorn raises his eyebrows. "You are not going home?"

I shift from foot to foot. "I'm a crazy idiot. Do you know where Legolas is?"

Aragorn smiles at me and gives me a hug. "I knew you wouldn't leave. He cares for you deeply, my friend. Do not startle him like that again. Also, I might have seen him on the council's balcony."

"Thank you, Aragorn," I say. "I owe you, one. I need to apologize to him. I am such a bloody idiotic lunatic."

"You might be," Aragorn smiles, slipping into a chuckle. "Go, Ada, Go find him."

I run into the castle, not caring about any mud marks I was making. I remember the balcony having a perfect place to look at the sunset.

I see Legolas' silhouette as I draw near him. I hear him sigh. "Aragorn, I do not you right now. She is gone. She –"

I spin him around and pull him down for a long, deep kiss. "I'm not Aragorn."

"Ada?" Legolas whispers, his voice disbelieving. "Are you really here? Flesh and blood?"

I put my arms around his neck and my chin on his neck. "I'm here. I'm so sorry. I love you, Legolas."

Legolas looks shocked I just admitted that, in front of his face and he hugs me tighter, stroking my hair, whispering; "I love you, too, Ada. I love you. But why did you give up your home for me?"

"Legolas," I say. "I'm not home there. You aren't there. Wherever you are, I am. Wherever you go, I follow. Wherever you will be, I am home. I shouldn't have said it otherwise. I was never home there. You are my home."

As I say those words, I realize they are true.

I was never happy on Earth.

I was never at peace at Earth.

I never felt safety at Earth.

I _never fell in love on Earth._

I am happy here, with Legolas, with the danger, with the mountains and with Aragorn, Gimli, Gandalf and the Hobbits. With the adventure and memories. With Ophelia, Alatar and Boromir guarding me, wherever I am.

_Home is where the heart is. _

"I'm home, Legolas," I whisper. "I'm home."

_The End_

* * *

Disclaimer

I do not own anything you recognize.

**Author's Note**

That's the end. That's the end of this fanfic, and I hope you enjoyed it. A month ago, February 28th, 2014, I published my first chapter of my first fanfic, wondering if anyone, anywhere, would enjoy it. And, now a month later, this fanfic is done, and I have received so much support. I love you all, and I hope you found this entertaining to read as much as it was to write. Now, for the last time on this fanfic; callouts.

_AbigailPeters_, I never planned on Adeline to go. I hope you liked this final chapter, however short it may be. Thank you for being with me from the beginning to the end. *Table appears with every kind of dessert*. Thank you, and help yourself.

Thank you for favourite-ing, _Mrs. Marie Woods-Winchester_. This means much to me. Go join AbigailPeters at the dessert table. :)

_Roxygirl_ (Guest), thank you for your support, your heartwarming comments and everything else you've done to show support and love to my fanfic. Also, thank you for reading the pretty bad first chapters. I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. Go join AbigailPeters and Mrs. Marie Woods-Winchester.

_FreeSpiritSeeker_, thank you for reading my chapters, for being with me, from the crappy first chapters to the last. Thank you for the support, and the love you gave to this fanfic. I hope you liked how it ended. Go join the others at the dessert table. :)

And, to all my other readers, thank you, for everything, for reading, for following, for favourite-ing, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Signing out for the last time on this fic,

_BlueDaylighter_


End file.
